Haile Potter (The Girl Who Lived) and the Sorcerer's Stone
by loveisforrrent
Summary: Harry Potter Fanfiction. What if the Chosen One had been born a girl? The series rewritten and the exciting turn of events reveal what the story would've been like with a female protagonist.
1. Chapter 1: When Will My Life Begin?

Disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Harry Potter.

~

No matter how hard I tried, I could never seem to remember anything but growing up with my aunt, uncle, and cousin. Usually it was frustrating, but lately I was felt myself yearning for answers more than ever. How had I ended up here? As my eleventh birthday grew near, it occurred to me that I had spent nearly ten years here now.

And by here, I mean in the house of my aunt, uncle, and cousin, but not somewhere I would exactly call home, you see.

I had always dreamed about who my parents were and what they were like. My aunt's house held no pictures of them, even though my mom had been her sister. I never knew why I had never even seen a picture of them. I wasn't allowed to ask questions.

All I knew was that my parents had died in some sort of car crash and I had survived. The only thing that proved me this actually happened was a very unique lightning-shaped scar I've always had on my forehead. Where else could that have come from?

Anyway, that left me here with my only living relatives. Sometimes I pretended they weren't really my relatives because they either: one) ignored me or two) gave me nasty looks that made me question if I had forgotten to shower in the past week.

I lived in a small cupboard under the stairs. It wasn't much, but it was mine. I usually didn't mind it too much except for the spiders. I'd gotten used to them, but they still creeped me out. Why did anything need eight legs?

I was unwanted; I had always known that deep, deep down. Uncle Vernon always shot me nasty looks and barked at me in a way that was not fatherly. Aunt Petunia seemed to be sick every time she looked at me, as though I reminded her of something she hated to think of.

And my unbearable cousin, Dudley, was a fat pig to be brief, and he loved to mess around with me: chasing me, scaring me, pulling my hair, and hitting me.

Oh! My name is Haile Potter (pronounced like the weather "hail"). I'm short, very thin, I have extremely messy, curly, and completely untameable jet black hair, that I keep a few inches above my elbows (my aunt absolutely detested my hair, but I've learned to like it) with my bangs swept to the side to cover the scar, and bright, brilliant green eyes.

I always seem to attract odd happenings. Sometimes, I figure, it's luck. But other times…I'm not sure how to describe them.

Like, that one time, for instance, when Aunt Petunia forced me to pierce my ears when I was seven years old. My hair was extremely short and she complained I looked too much like a boy. So, to make me look more feminine, she decided to get my ears pierced. I completely and totally refused. I was not afraid; I just did not see the necessity in it.

Although when Aunt Petunia dragged me to the mall, I went quietly but furiously. However, when the lady brought the gun to my ear, I shut my eyes tight and thought how badly I didn't want this. Nothing happened. I opened my eyes and the lady was staring fixedly at her gun. She told my aunt that for some reason the gun was not working, and that we should come again tomorrow. My Aunt Petunia would hear nothing of it and rushed me to another place.

The same thing occurred, and after it happened three more times in a row, each of the piercing specialists baffled, Aunt Petunia rushed me home, and I was sentenced to two weeks in my cupboard for no apparent reason.

And another occasion, two Christmases ago, Dudley had been throwing a tantrum because he had asked for Version 2 of some video game, and they bought him Version 1 I was standing outside the sitting room, listening in, not wanting to get in the middle of it.

My aunt and uncle hurriedly blamed it on me, saying that was what _I_ had said he wanted, and I was becoming angrier by the second for playing the role of the scapegoat. Suddenly, the entire Christmas tree fell to the floor, in a huge crash, nearly crushing the maplewood coffee table. For this, I had not been punished, for I ran to my cupboard and pretended I was asleep when my uncle had run throughout the house yelling for me.

Even though the Dursleys finally concluded they had no sufficient proof it was me, I had still wondered _how_ it could have been me in the first place. I knew I hadn't done it; I mean, I was in the hall, nowhere near the tree! But sometimes…I had the funny feeling like I _had_ made it happen…

Anyway, this is where my story begins, me in my cupboard, lying on my small something of a bed, waiting, waiting…waiting….thinking...

 ** _When will my life begin?_**

"Get up! Up, up!" called a sharp voice through the miniature door of my cupboard. I had already been awake luckily, but I groaned and sat up anyhow.

"I'm up!" I called back with a bit of exasperation that I instantly regretted.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me, young lady!" came the sharp voice again that belonged to my aunt. "Hurry up and get out! You need to look after the bacon, and do _not_ let it burn like last time! Everything _must_ be perfect on Duddykin's birthday."

I groaned again but louder. I had momentarily forgot that it was my cousin's birthday today. "Keep your hair on, I'm going," I muttered incoherently.

I dressed in an old pair of jean shorts and an old gray sweater even though it was almost the dead of summer. Everything always looked so terrible on me; I was so small and skinny. And my clothes were usually bought from the thrift store, never in my size. I blasted open the door, which was very old and sometimes got stuck, and strolled down the hall towards the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon merely grunted as I walked in, and Dudley hardly noticed. Tons of presents for Dudley were piled high on the kitchen table, and I sighed with a bit jealousy. I had never really received a birthday present, unless you count the broken mirror (isn't that bad luck?) and an umbrella that had been opened...(HEY ISN'T THAT ALSO BAD LUCK?)

I uneasily attempted to flip the bacon; I was a terrible cook, to say the least. I couldn't cook anything for my life, and my aunt seemed to remember this as she shooed me out of the way to take care of the bacon herself, muttering about useless little girls.

I sat down at the table, across from Dudley and my uncle, so that they couldn't see me over the tall mounds of gifts. Dudley spoke once Aunt Petunia served the fried eggs and bacon. She "forgot" to serve me so I had to casually swipe a piece of bacon off the pan once she sat it on the table.

"Thirty-six," Dudley remarked, surveying the lot. "That's two less than last year."

I groaned inwardly and banged my head on the table in pure frustration and disgust. Like thirty-six presents just wasn't _good enough_ for him.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present over here," came the soothing voice of my aunt, and I heard a shuffling of boxes.

"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said, and I anticipated a tantrum. I wondered if they'd notice if I just…slipped out of the room. I ate quickly while my aunt was reassuring Dudley that they'd buy him two more presents today.

I quietly got up from the table as the telephone rang. _Excellent; a distraction_ , I thought. I tip-toed to the door behind Dudley and Uncle Vernon, and I had almost turned the knob when my aunt hung up and jerked her head at me, saying, "Mrs. Figg can't take her. Broken leg. Can you just believe?"

Uncle Vernon turned around to look at me as if I were some sort of leech. I dropped my hand from the knob and tried to look innocent. "Well, what are we going to do with her?" my uncle questioned, and I could see Dudley fidgeting in his seat.

As they went through unsuccessful options, I just stood by the door, annoyed, and finally snapped, "I could just stay here. Alone?"

"Heavens, no!" Petunia cried as if I had just offered to sell Dudley to a circus.

I stomped my foot in anger, but they weren't looking. "We'll just have to take her," my aunt said, slowly, defeated. "Leave her in the car…"

"The car is new, Petunia!" Uncle Vernon argued. "She can't sit in it alone….Dear Lord, all she does is cause trouble! This is—"

Suddenly, Dudley began to sob loudly. I knew better. He was pretending to cry to get what he wanted. "Dunky duddykins, don't cry, she won't spoil your special day!" Petunia cried, embracing him in a tight hug.

"She's…always…messing _everything_ ….up!" Dudley sobbed out, coughing in mock pretend. "Don't let her come!" I closed my eyes, trying to pretend this wasn't happening.

The doorbell rang and Dudley's cries ceased. "That's Dudley's friend!" Petunia cried frantically. "Goodness!" She ran to answer it and in walked Piers Polkiss, who might not have disliked me as much as Dudley, even though he didn't have the courage to say it.

"I suppose we haven't got a choice," Vernon said finally, after Petunia had waved good-bye to Piers' mother. "Haile has to come." He sighed heavily as if this was a horrible nightmare he wanted to wake up from.

Dudley and Piers exchanged a look of annoyance, but I shot them a happy grin. I _never_ got to come along on Dudley's birthday outing. I always stayed with old lady Figg, who showed me dumb pictures of cats and made me play dress up with all of her ancient clothing.

Before I clambered into the car after Piers, Uncle Vernon grabbed my wrist and warned, "I'm warning you…any funny business…and you'll be locked up 'til Christmas."

I sighed and replied, "Pul-ease, I'm not going to do anything." No one ever seemed to believe me.

I was so excited to be going out somewhere, I didn't even care that Uncle Vernon was complaining about me, as usual, as I was his favorite complaint. I didn't care that Dudley and Piers kept whispering and laughing about me. _I was in for a good day_ , I thought.

I was right. It was very sunny, and I even got a lemon ice pop (that was considerably less tasty and smaller than Dudley and Pier's large chocolate cones, but still quite good, nonetheless). I enjoyed seeing all the animals, as I had never been to a zoo, and even though Dudley and Piers got bored after a while, I had a great time.

We ate at the zoo restaurant and even though I wasn't allowed to get an adult meal like Piers and Dudley did (they thought they were acting very mature by ordering a cheeseburger instead of a kiddie burger with cheese), my chicken fingers were satisfying. I even sneaked a French fry off Dudley's plate when he went to the restroom; that pretty much made my day.

After lunch, we ventured to the reptile house. This was my favorite part; for some reason, I had always been fascinated by snakes. Dudley and Piers seemed to enjoy it, too. Dudley found the biggest one right away, and Uncle V banged on the glass for him but the snake didn't move.

I approached it as Dudley ran off, bored. I stared sympathetically at its sleeping form and suddenly, it opened its eyes and raised his head until he was looking straight at me. I was shocked...especially after the snake _winked_ at me.

I was petrified. Like I said, I always attracted odd happenings! However, once I got over the shock, I sent the snake an encouraging smile as if it could understand me. The snake jerked his head to my uncle and cousin and rolled its eyes, as if to say, _I get that all the time_.

"How annoying," I muttered back to the snake, actually pretending it could hear me. The snake nodded and I knew at once it could understand me. I excitedly stared into its eyes, wondering what this all meant.

"Where are you from?" I asked it, eager to talk more to a snake.

The snake jabbed its tail at the sign next to its cage. _Boa Constrictor, Brazil. This specimen was bred in the zoo._ "Aw, that's so sad," I murmured, smiling sadly. "I wish there was something I could do—"

Piers' yell echoed throughout the reptile house. "DUDLEY! COME HERE AND LOOK AT THE SNAKE!" he had shouted, and now both of them ran towards the glass.

Involuntarily, Dudley knocked me out of the way with his massive arm and not expecting the blow and being so small, I fell to the hard stone floor. I was angry at being flung aside, but before I had time even to think, the glass had disappeared from the snake's exhibit.

Piers and Dudley let out yells, and the snake was rapidly exiting its home, eager to be free. It was an uproar; people grabbing their kids and fleeing towards the exit, shouting and screaming. The snake slithered past me, and no mistaking it, it hissed, "Brazil, here I come…gracias, amiga."

I hardly remembered the keeper of the reptile house coming to apologize and leaving the zoo. I had been in shock. The glass had…just disappeared? Once again, I got the feeling I had something to do with it, although it was quite impossible.

In the car ride home, Dudley and Piers were elaborating on exaggerated stories of the encounter, before Piers unfortunately asked me loudly, "Weren't you talking to it, Haile?" I stayed silent the whole ride home.

Piers left briefly after we arrived home, and Uncle Vernon turned on me, grabbed me by my hair, and flung me into the cupboard. I had the feeling I wouldn't be coming out for a very, very long time….  
No matter how many times I shouted back at my uncle that I had done nothing, nothing at all, he refused to believe me, and eventually just left me alone.

It was so unfair that I was did something I didn't do often: cry. I was so confused, so sick of my life, and I would've given anything to just see my parents one single time. I missed them so much, even though I had barely known them.

What seemed like years later, the Dursleys finally allowed me out of my cupboard. It was well into summer vacation at this time, and I couldn't even enjoy it, because I wasn't allowed to go anywhere, and Dudley's friends were always over, which meant Dudley showed off more, which meant picking on me all day long.

A couple weeks later, I came out my cupboard and strolled down to the hall and into the kitchen, but no one looked up as I sat down at the table. The usual sound of the click of the mail slot and flop of letters carried to the kitchen. "Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper.

"Make _her_ get it!" Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Haile," Uncle Vernon told me instead.

"No, make Dudley get it!" I argued, but it was no use, really.

"Poke her with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Dudley had recently got his uniform and walking stick for his private school he would be attending. I was to attend the local public school.

I narrowly dodged the stick and exasperatedly got up to get the mail. I begun to look through the letters; nothing came of interest until the last letter in the small pile. My mouth dropped in shock. The envelope read:

Ms. Haile Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

It was very thick and it looked as if it were a few years old. I turned the letter over and an unfamiliar symbol was on the wax seal: a coat of arms with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding the letter _H._

"Hurry up!" yelled my uncle. I looked up, remembering what I been sent to do, and tucked my letter in my pocket. I ate my small breakfast as fast as I could and ran away to my cupboard to open my first, very own letter, my heart beating excitedly.

I yanked the letter out of my pocket, and had peeled away the seal, opened the flap, and was about to take out the thick papers that were enclosed, when a sharp rap on my door made me snap to attention.

"Haile, come out, I need you try on your new school uniform," came a sharp, toneless voice. My cupboard door was opened and there stood my aunt, looking annoyed. "Come—what have you got?" Her voice was suddenly suspicious and cold.

Before I could say a word, she snatched the letter right out of my hands. I started to protest angrily as she yanked the letter out of the envelope and the envelope fell astray to the floor. She read the letter, lips pursed, and her face became as white as snow.

She then shrieked, "VERNON!"

Uncle Vernon was there in an instant. "What is it?" He was sweating. Dudley trod behind him.

She thrust the letter at him and instead of white, his face turned a very nasty purple shade. "Give me my letter!" I suddenly shouted.

Uncle Vernon, still clutching the letter, and Aunt Petunia, after sweeping the envelope from the ground, made their way to the kitchen and slammed the door in Dudley's face. Dudley tapped the door with his Smeltings stick, but they didn't let him in, which was foreign to him.

I kicked Dudley to make him shut up with the stick and he took over the keyhole while I lay down to listen through the crack in the door.

"Vernon, look at the address! How could they know where she sleeps? Are they watching—?"

"Watching—spying—might be following us."

"What do we do?"

"We'll ignore it. They'll leave us alone if we don't reply. Yes…that's settled."

"But—"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Uncle Vernon said.

 _What were they talking about?_ I needed to get to the bottom of this.


	2. Chapter 2: Too Good To Be True

That evening, Uncle Vernon opened the door to my cupboard. He looked apprehensive as a spider was crawling rather close to his feet. "Haile—"

"Don't step on Bertha!" I cried as he raised his foot to stomp on the spider.

"Bertha? Anyway, Haile-"

"Where's my letter?" I shot at him, cutting him off.

"It was a mistake. I have burned it," Uncle Vernon said simply. I banged my fist down on my hard bed.

"No, it wasn't!" I argued. "It said—"

"SILENCE!" shouted Uncle Vernon, and Bertha scurried away under the bed. He forced his face into a smile.

"Yes…Haile...about this…cupboard… your aunt and I have been…thinking, yes, that, what with all the spiders and its smallness…the cupboard simply isn't acceptable anymore. Why don't you move into Dudley's second bedroom?"

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, dumbstruck.

"Take this stuff upstairs now," Uncle Vernon snapped, as he always did when I asked questions. I gathered my small pile of secondhand clothes and my few belongings and brought them upstairs, saying goodbye to Bertha, Frank, Corey, and Natalie, the whole gang.

Everything in Dudley's second bedroom was broken. All the things he had ever owned and broke. I couldn't imagine how anyone could just waste money like this. If I had money, I'd use it go far away from here...

Although I was satisfied to be in a real bedroom for the first time in my life, but I couldn't help wondering… _why_? Why now? Did those letters addressed to _me_ have something to do with it?

The following morning, Dudley kept shooting me nasty glances. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other and shooting me quick, hurried glances as if I might explode. I kept quiet and sighed, picking at my waffle. It was definitely nice to be in a bedroom as last night had brought me a wonderful sleep, but it didn't change the fact that I still didn't have a family.

Finally, there came the click and flop of the mail slot and letters. I looked up, alert, and leaped out of my chair, hurriedly. "I'll get the mail!" I practically screamed, but Uncle Vernon grabbed my arm and Dudley ran instead. I never saw Dudley move so fast in my life.

We heard Dudley's yell a second later.

"There's another one! Ms. Haile Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive—"

Uncle Vernon released my arm and we both scrambled down the hall, knocking into each other, until he stretched out his arm, knocking me backwards, onto the floor.

"GO TO YOUR ROOMS!" Uncle Vernon screamed, and Dudley and I scuttled off, leaving the letters on the floor.

I paced my room, panting from the small fight. They were at it again, were they? Well, next time I would make sure they wouldn't fail.

The next day, I awoke at four in the morning. I smiled at having woken up at a good time, and for the next two hours, I waited. Finally, when the clock on the wall read 6:00AM, I went downstairs, careful to skip the creaky stair and not turn on any lights.

I would wait for the mail carrier and read the letters before anyone even knew they had arrived. It was brilliant, I thought, as I approached the front door.

Finally, those letters would be—

"AAAAARRRRGH!"

I jumped a foot in the air, scared out of my mind. I had stepped on something squishy and rather large, and it had _yelled._ There was no mistaking it, however, as Aunt Petunia turned the lights on and Dudley came following behind her down the stairs, I had trodden on my uncle's face, who has making sure I didn't do exactly what I had been trying to do.

I was yelled at for a very, very long time, before I was forced to make some breakfast and tea. I moodily cracked eggs into the frying pan, getting a bit of shell in them, as I always did, but I didn't bother to fish them out this time. I felt that this time they really deserved it.

Uncle Vernon had shredded the letters and thrown the pieces into the trash compactor. He stayed home from work and nailed up the mail slot that day. "Ruddy—letters—no-good—abnormal—" was all I could make out.

The next day, what must have been twelve letters arrived for me. I was totally astounded and a little excited. Someone wanted to talk to _me_! I just _had_ to know. The mystery was killing me, but I was out of ideas. Since the mail slot was nailed up, the letters came through all the windows and door cracks.

So, Uncle Vernon nailed up the door cracks and the windows. I couldn't be sure, but he seemed little off his rocker lately. That was even more mystifying. My aunt and uncle seemed to know _exactly_ who these letters were from, because that's the only way they'd want me to avoid them.

The weekend was even worse. Double the letters that came on Friday came in the egg cartons on Saturday. I was almost doubled over in laughter. These people, whoever they were, were going to desperate measures…all for me! What was so special about me?

Sunday, however, was epic.

We were all sitting at the breakfast table, a little less tense, because Sunday meant no letters. Uncle Vernon contemplated this happily as he began to butter the newspaper. I cleared my throat, but he continued.

"No post on Sundays," he repeated, for the sixth time, "No damn letters today—"

All of a sudden, a loud noise uproared from the kitchen chimney, cutting him off. The item that ejected from the chimney hit him sharply on the back of his head. I realized, gleefully, that it was a letter.

I jumped out of my chair to get the letter, but before I could take a single step, hundreds of letters came flooding out of the chimney. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia yelled and screamed, but I excitedly jumped up and down, hoping to catch one. Dudley had run out of the room, arms shielding his face.

When Uncle Vernon got over the shock, he shuffled Aunt Petunia out after Dudley and grabbed me as I struggled to get loose, and swung with me over his shoulder, throwing me into the hall. He slammed the door shut tight behind him.

He looked quite mad as he pulled out about half of his mustache, his face a nasty shade of purple, and his teeth bared like a saber-toothed tiger. "That does it," he said, rather calmly, "Meet me back here in five minutes, exactly. We're leaving. No talking back!" he roared at Dudley, as his son had begun to protest.

After that, no one argued with him. I ran up to my room, thoughts and questions flooding my mind. _Who were these people?_

I packed a few sets of clothes, not knowing how long we would be gone for, and I ran downstairs as fast I could. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon appeared moments later, and Dudley took the longest of course. Uncle Vernon shuffled him along by giving him a huge slap. He had gone mad.

A few minutes later, a partially insane Uncle Vernon, a quiet but scared Aunt Petunia, a crying Dudley, and a confused me climbed into the car. And off we drove.

For the whole entire day, we drove. I had a feeling Uncle Vernon didn't have a clue where he was going, because he kept turning sharply in random places, muttering. "Shake 'em off, shake 'em off."

We had no meals, much to the displeasure of Dudley, who was crying by the time it turned dark outside. He had had a terrible day, but really, hadn't we all?

We finally found a motel, that looked extremely disgusting, and I had to share a room with my cousin. Dudley fell asleep straight away, but I lay in bed, getting my thoughts straight. I concluded that I had absolutely no idea who was mailing me the letters…but I continued to suspect that my aunt and uncle did; that's why they were so scared of me reading it.

Was it another relative? Was my dream coming true; was there some unknown relation coming to finally, finally take me away? The feeling of hope overwhelmed me, and I tried desperately to push those thoughts away. Uncle Vernon had reassured me many a time that dreams were a waste of time. I didn't want to get my hopes up.

The next day we ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant, which smelled of rotten fish and was extremely cold. I could barely eat my stale cereal and toast; I had too much on my mind. I wanted this mystery to be over with and solved.

A tall lady, who was the owner of the hotel, approached our table to our surprise. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Haile Potter? Only got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She read the envelope out loud. "Ms. Haile. Potter. Room 17. Railview Hotel. Cokeworth." She gave a small chuckle. "A 'undred letters….well, I never."

I stood up and smiled, and said, "I'm Haile Potter," and the lady handed me them. Uncle Vernon jumped out of his chair like he had just been electrocuted, and ran after me, as I had tried to escape, to open the letter.

I ran through the hotel lobby, attracting some unwanted attention. Then, I spotted my sanctuary. The ladies' restroom. I ran straight for it and locked myself in a stall. I tore open the envelope. I faintly heard the door to the restroom opening, but I wasn't listening. I took out the letter and with trembling hands, began to unfold it…

Uncle Vernon's face appeared above the stall next to mine. He was standing on the toilet. I screamed and tried to run away, clutching the letter tightly, but he heaved himself, somehow, over the wall, and landed flat on me.

I was squished on the ground and I sputtered for breath as he knocked the wind out of me. He snatched the letter from my grip and walked briskly out of the bathroom. I ran after him, furious. I jumped on his back, in the lobby, resulting in many shocked gasps and cries of the small crowd.

"Get—off—me," he spat, throwing me off his back. I landed hard the hotel floor. Dudley and Aunt Petunia were all over Uncle Vernon, making sure he wasn't hurt.

The people in the lobby were shaking their heads, and more people had ventured out of their rooms, to see what the commotion was. I stood up and stomped my foot angrily.

Easily enough, we were thrown out the hotel ten minutes later. We were on the road again. We seemed to be driving _everywhere_ before Uncle Vernon stopped the car at a coast and ventured out somewhere.

Rain beat down on the car heavily. I stared out of the car window, sleepily and dreamily. Dudley was whining for the twenty-seventh hour in a row.

Then I remembered something. Tomorrow…was my birthday! I was turning eleven. I smiled faintly to myself. I knew it would be nothing special, like every other year, but at least I was a whole year older, one year closer to moving out on my own.

"Tomorrow is my birthday," I told them, breaking the tense silence. Dudley didn't even care and my aunt faintly nodded, but she wasn't even listening.

Finally, Uncle Vernon returned, carrying a long, thin package. Aunt Petunia started to question the box, but he intervened, practically yelling, "Found the perfect place! Come on, everyone!"

The rain was freezing cold, as we all clammered out the car, shivering. "Storm forecast for tonight!" shouted my uncle, happily, "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat."

A really creepy old man walked up to us and pointed to an old rowboat that was rocking unreassuringly back and forth in the stormy sea.

If it was cold outside in the rain, it was nothing compared to being in the small boat. The sea sprayed what felt like icicles piercing our skin, and the icy wind didn't help. Finally, we approached a rock out at sea, with a tiny shack set upon it. It was most random thing I had ever witnessed.

The inside of the run-down shack was as bad as outside. It smelled disgusting, it was still cold, and besides there being only two rooms, I was forced to sleep on the floor, while Dudley got the couch, and my aunt and uncle got the bedroom.

We all ate Uncle Vernon's "rations," which consisted of four Luna bars and four cheese sticks. The old fireplace didn't work, so it remained chilly all night long. Opposite to the rest of the us, Uncle Vernon was in a very good mood as no one would ever find us here. I kicked the hardwood floor angrily.

The monstrous storm was still going strong when everyone finally went to bed. I sighed and turned over on the hard floor. I couldn't get comfortable as I was hungry, cold, and confused. Like many other nights, I thought about my parents and imagined what they looked like and I thought about if they loved me or not.

The idea of someone…anyone…loving me seemed absurd. But another one of my biggest dreams was that someday, someone would.

I glanced at the wristwatch on Dudley's outstretched arm. Ten minutes until I was eleven. My stomach jumped. I waited patiently, hearing strange noises outside and trying to forget about them. I was very sleepy…I could fall asleep any second now…

Ten seconds….nine…eight…seven…six…five…four—my eyes closed, ready for the sensation of rest—two…one…

 ** _BOOM._**

I sat up sharply. My eyes weren't tired anymore; I was fully awake and alert. Even Dudley had jumped awake and called stupidly, "Where's the cannon?"

 ** _BOOM_**.

Someone was knocking on the door, causing the whole shack to shake. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came running into the room, my uncle holding a rifle.

"WHO IS IT?" my uncle roared. "I'm armed, I'm warning you!"

A pause. Then—

 ** _SMASH!_**

The door was knocked down with a huge amount of force. A man stood in the doorway, to my complete shock. He barely looked human, however…he was more of a giant.

He stood twice the size of an average man, and had curly, long wild hair, and a shaggy beard. His eyes were kind, though, black little circles hidden behind all the hair. He wore a long coat and squeaky black boots. He also had with him an owl perched on his shoulder, as if his appearance couldn't get any stranger.

He fixed the door. Then he turned to look at us. I felt the urge to scream. "Make me a cup o' tea, would yeh? It's been a difficult journey…"

My mouth dropped in shock. I rubbed my eyes frantically. Was this _actually_ happening? Had I drifted off to sleep? No, this definitely seemed real…

He stomped over to the couch where Dudley sat, cowering in fear. "Budge up, yeh great lump," said the strange man.

I let out a small laugh, as Dudley scrambled to stand behind his mother, who was standing behind her husband, cowering in fear, also. The stranger winked at me.

"An' here's Haile!" he boomed, beaming at me.

"I—" Before I could continue, Uncle Vernon interrupted me.

"LEAVE AT THIS INSTANT!" my uncle yelled. "You have no—no right!"

"Shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," shot the giant, as he grabbed the rifle from Vernon and bent it into a knot, like it was merely rubber, and threw it behind him carelessly.

Uncle Vernon whimpered, but I mumbled, "Whoa…"

"Anyway," said the stranger, turning back to me—my stomach did a flip-flop—"a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here—I mighta sat on it at some point, but it should taste all right."

I stared, mouth ajar, as he pulled a box out and handed it to me. I opened it, my hands shaking. Inside it was a large chocolate cake. It read, _Happy Birthday, Haile_ with icing.

I looked up at him and exclaimed, "But…how do you know it's my birthday? I don't even know you!" I hoped I didn't sound rude, but I was deeply puzzled.

The giant chuckled and said, "I haven't introduced meself, o' course! Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." We shook hands, and I smiled back at him. _What's Hogwarts?_

I was about to ask more questions, but he turned away and blocking the fireplace from our view, proceeded to do something that we couldn't see, but after he sat on the sofa, there was a strong fire burning, filling the shack with light and warmth.

He then continued to cook sausages and make tea. No one spoke, probably all dumbstruck, but when the delicious smell of sausages cooking filled the air, Dudley fidgeted.

"Don't touch anything he gives you, son," Uncle Vernon said sharply.

"Yer great pig of a son don' need no more stuffin'," Rubeus Hagrid chuckled.

He offered me some sausages instead, and for once in my life, I ate happily while Dudley did not. It felt wonderful, but I continued to stare at the giant. I sighed and finally said, "I'm sorry…sir…but I really just have no idea who you are?"

He sipped his tea and wiped his mouth. "Call me Hagrid," he told me, "everyone does. An' like I said, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts—yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, I expect."

"Uh…say what?" I asked, feeling quite stupid. _Hogwarts?_ What was that, some sort of animal or city?

Hagrid dropped his teacup. "Don' tell me yeh don' know about _Hogwarts_?" he asked, raising his voice a little.

"I'm very sorry!" I cried, not wanting to upset him. "But I really don't! Am I supposed to…?"

"YER BLOODY WELL SUPPOSED TO!" Hagrid boomed, shaking the whole shack. I got to my feet, a little scared, but mostly confused. "DURSLEY!" He turned to my uncle. "I knew yeh weren' lettin' the girl get her letters, but I didn' think yeh wouldn' tell her abou' Hogwarts!"

"What is Hogwarts?!" I practically shouted, sick of being confused.

"What is Hogwarts…" Hagrid repeated, running his hands through his long, tangled hair. "Yeh really don' know. But didn't yeh wonder where your parents learned it all?"

"Learned what? You knew my parents?" I asked, hopefully. What on _Earth_ was going on here?!

"WAIT JUS' ONE SECOND!" Hagrid thundered. The Dursleys were crouching against the wall in fear. "You mean to ter tell me that this girl—this girl!—knows nothin' abou'—abou' ANYTHIN'!?"

"Hey, I'm not completely brainless!" I said, defending myself. "I did go to school, you know." I put my hands on my hips.

"Not _their_ kind of school. I mean, our world. Your world, my world, your parents' world…"

"What _world_!?" I yelled. Hagrid looked enraged beyond reason.

Uncle Vernon had gone pale and Aunt Petunia's face was horror-stricken. "Yeh don' even know that—that you're famous! Your parents…famous! Yeh don' know?!"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, helplessly.

"Yeh don' know what yeh _are_?" Hagrid asked desperately.

"STOP!" yelled Uncle Vernon. "Do not tell my niece ANYTHING."

Hagrid turned on him, angrily. "You never told her? Never told her what was in the letter? You've kept all that from her?" His voice trembled with rage.

"PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" I shrieked, pleading. I was beginning to go crazy. What was all this? What didn't I know? And why were Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia so insistent on him not telling me?

"NO!" Uncle Vernon thundered frantically.

"SHUT UP!" roared Hagrid. "Haile," he continued before Uncle Vernon could stop him, "Yer a witch."

Silence fell over the shack, except for the outside raging sea. The words seemed to echo in my head, over and over and over again. 'Yer a witch.' A witch…a witch!? WHAT THE HECK!?

"A witch?!" I shrieked, finding my voice. "What do you mean?" From the children's stories I had read when I was younger, witches were normally bad, ugly, old hags, with pointed black hats and rotting teeth and green hair and all that. I was…a witch? This was some kind of joke, obviously.

"I mean, yer a witch," Hagrid repeated, sitting down. I walked closer to him, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Yeh need to read yer letter, I reckon."

Finally, _finally,_ I took the letter from Hagrid. With trembling fingers, I opened up the envelope addressed to 'Ms. Haile Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea.'

The title on top of the letter read, _'_ _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_

I looked up, smiling. "So Hogwarts is a _school_ ," I said, and Hagrid nodded patiently, while Aunt Petunia clucked. I read on. _'_ _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore._ '

"Albus Dumbledore…" I repeated aloud.

"The best wizard in the world," Hagrid said, beaming.

I read on, intrigued. _'_ _Dear Ms. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall,_ Deputy Headmistress.'

I read the letter at least five times before I spoke aloud. "Wow," I said vaguely, sinking to the floor, the precious piece of paper clutched in my hand. " _Holy toledo_."

"Bi' of a shock?" Hagrid chuckled, his good-natured personality returning. He wrote a note and gave it to the owl that had accompanied him quickly. The owl flew out into the storm when Hagrid shooed him off. My mouth was open yet again. An _owl_?

"She's not going," firmly stated my uncle.

" _Oh_ ," I started to protest, sadly, but Hagrid grunted.

"And who's stoppin' her?" Hagrid boomed, and my face broke into a grin. "A Muggle like yerself?"

"A what?" I asked, questions forming in my head like explosions.

"A Muggle," Hagrid repeated. "Non-magic folk like them. Too bad yeh had to grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever saw." My eyebrows shot up.

"We swore when we took her in we'd stop this nonsense! Witch, indeed!" my uncle roared.

Shock poured over me as I turned to my uncle, dizzy with overwhelming emotion, I shouted, "YOU KNEW!?"

"KNEW!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Of course we bloody well knew! How could you not be, my sister being what she was. She got that same blasted letter and went off to that—that school—and came home every vacation doing all sorts of rubbish! I was the only one who ever saw her for what she truly was—a _freak_! But for my parents, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were— _proud_ —to have a witch in the family!"

She took in a deep breath and continued, "Then she met your dad, and got married and had you, and I knew when you were born you'd be the same, just as _abnormal_ , and then, she got herself blown up along with her good-for-nothing husband and we got landed with you!"

I had gone as pale as my uncle. I was speechless for a moment, then I screamed, "You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!?" thundered Hagrid, jumping to his feet again, so that the Dursleys backed up again. "How could a _car crash_ kill Lily an' James Potter?!"

I smiled faintly at hearing their names. My own parents…it had all been a lie. They hadn't died in a car crash after all. It seemed like everything was finally becoming clear, very slowly. "Hagrid…please tell me the truth," I pleaded, walking a few steps towards him.

"I don' think I'm the righ' person ter tell yeh, but yeh gotta know…can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'," Hagrid said softly. Then he told me, "It begins with a person called…so strange yeh don' know his name…he's infamous in our world…"

"What's his name?" I asked, intrigued.

"No one says it out loud…too scary…but it's… _Voldemort_. Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this wizard, about twenty years ago, started lookin' fer followers…"

Hagrid launched into the tale you all know so well, about Voldemort, his followers, how he murdered my parents, and tried to kill me, but I somehow survived and sent the Dark Lord into hiding, with just a scar on my forehead. I listened intensely, not speaking until he was done.

When he finished, my mind flashed back to that green flash of light and I remembered something else for the first time: a high, cold cruel laugh. _Voldemort._ Wetness had appeared in my eyes and I brushed it away impatiently. "…I…" I started, but I didn't know what to say.

"Took yeh from the house meself. Brought yeh ter this lot…"

"But what happened to Volde—I mean, You-Know-Who?" I asked, regaining control of myself.

"Some say he died. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die, so must of us reckon he's still out somewhere, but lost his powers. And it's all 'cause o' you. People who was on his side came back ter ours."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon and I turned to him, angrily. _How could they keep this from me?_ "You listen here, girl. The world is better off with people like—people like _you."_

Hagrid and I ignored him and I thought about all this. _I_ finished the Darkest Lord of all-time? It just…it just didn't seem to be real. I wasn't special…I was just a regular girl with a peculiar scar and wild, black hair and I went to normal school and…

"Hagrid," I said softly. "I'm not a witch. I don't think I ever could be."

Hagrid laughed. "No? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

I looked back and with dawning realization, remembered the time of the Christmas tree, my unpierced ears, running away from Dudley and his friends, and finally, the boa constrictor. I grinned widely at Hagrid, and Hagrid was smiling back. "Actually…come to think of it…."

"Haile Potter, not a witch—you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts," Hagrid said happily.

"She's not going!" Uncle Vernon hissed. "She's not going to some—some _magic_ school—"

"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won' stop her," growled Hagrid. "Lily an' James Potter's daughter not goin' ter Hogwarts! Ha! She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft there is! She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"

"I'M NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" roared Uncle Vernon. This time, however, Hagrid showed no mercy.

He pulled out his umbrella, which I assumed was magical, and yelled, "NEVER—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!"

He pointed the umbrella at Dudley, who was now pigging out on my very own birthday cake, and made him sprout a piggy tail through his trousers. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon yelled out and hurried him to the next room. I roared with laughter.

I was still laughing when he continued, "Be grateful if yeh didn' mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I'm—er—not usually supposed ter do magic."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I got expelled from Hogwarts back in the day, in me third year. Snapped me wand in half an' everything. Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper, though, great man, he is."

"Why were you expelled, Hagrid?" I asked, intrigued on how you could be expelled from a wizard school.

"Er…time fer bed!" Hagrid said loudly. "Lots ter do tomorrow." He handed me his humongous coat. "Sleep under that. It'll help the floor a bi'."

"Hagrid…can you promise me something?" I asked, softly.

"What is it?" he asked, laying down on the sofa.

"Can you promise me this isn't some sort of a joke?" I asked, hopefully.

He gave a low chuckle. "Haile, _that_ , I can promise."

As we settled down to go to bed, I found that I had never been so happy in my entire eleven years of living. I thought for a bit before finally drifting off to sleep. Me…a witch….a _famous_ witch at that! And my parents…it was just reassuring to know they actually lived.

My heart leapt at the thought of meeting people who actually knew them! I'd finally find out all about myself and the family I never had…The magic world, huh? The wizarding world.

My dream was finally coming true: an unknown relation coming to take me away. Was it **too good to be true**? Guess I'd find out in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3: Welcome to Diagon Alley

Morning couldn't come fast enough, but when it did, I didn't dare open my eyes. My heart fell. It was just a dream, wasn't it? A giant…Hogwarts…witches and wizards…what an insane dream. I felt like crying. It had been such a good dream, too.

There was a loud tapping noise. Yep, and there's my aunt tapping on my door. I opened my eyes as the tapping continued.

The first thing I saw was a huge, dark figure crossing over to the window, where an owl was tapping to get in, in the bright sunshine, which meant the storm had passed.

The dark figure was the figure from my dream: Hagrid! I jumped to my feet in pure excitement.

"Hagrid!" I screamed, happily. I ran over to the humungous man and gave him a hug as he finished paying for the newspaper the owl had delivered.

"Whatsa matter?" he asked, dumbfounded at the hug.

"I thought it had been a dream!" I squealed and let him go, beaming. "It's true, then? I'm going off to witch school? All day away from the Dursleys and I'm going to _witch school_." I sighed happily and danced around the room dreamily.

Hagrid laughed. "Wizard _and_ witch school," Hagrid corrected. "And say, what do you mean all day?"

I stopped dancing. "I don't go there all day?" I inquired, sadly.

Hagrid laughed again, louder. "Haile—yeh spend the whole year there! S'not jus' 'round the corner, yeh know."

"Wait a minute," I said, my voice dropping. "I'm spending the whole entire school year there?"

"Yep," Hagrid said, still chuckling. "Jus' gotta come home for summer vacation. Easter and Christmas yeh can stay, though."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I shrieked while a shocked Hagrid dropped his newspaper.

"Best be off then, if yer so excited," Hagrid said, chuckling. "Lots ter do, gotta get all yer school stuff in London."

But then a horrible realization popped into my head. "Hagrid, I can't!" I cried, my good mood turning to a bad one.

"What?" Hagrid said, pulling on his boots.

"I don't have any money!" I cried.

"Oh, not ter worry," Hagrid said, waving this small factor away. "Yeh parents left yeh money, o' course!"

"They did?" I asked, confused. "But their house…destroyed…"

"They kep' their gold at Gringotts!" Hagrid said, as if it were obvious. "Wizards' bank. 'Ere, have a sausage."

As we ate cold sausages (that were surprisingly pretty good) and my birthday cake, I asked, "Wizards have banks?"

"Just one. Gringotts, run by goblins."

I had just drunk some orange juice that Hagrid had supplied for me. When I heard the word 'goblins', I had spit it out, spraying it all over Hagrid's beard.

"SAY WHAT!?" I shrieked.

Hagrid wrung his beard dry and looked at me like I was crazy. "Yeah, goblins. Oh, sorry, I fergot yeh don' know abou' anythin'. Yeah, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it. Don' mess with goblins, Haile. Gringotts is the safest place in the world, 'cept fer maybe Hogwarts. I gotta visit Gringotts meself. Hogwarts business. Come on, best we be off now. And Haile…here in the light now…you wouldn' believe meh if I told ya how much ya look like your mum."

I smiled brightly.

We left the shack without saying good-bye to my relatives, which I was perfectly okay with. The sun shone brightly and I smiled up at it, unusually happy.

The boat I had came in was still tied there. "How'd you get here?" I asked, confused.

"Flew."

"FLEW?" I was lucky I hadn't taken another drink at that moment.

"Yeah, but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

"Whoa." I followed Hagrid into the boat.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," Hagrid said slowly. "If I was ter—er—speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"I would never!" I promised, wanting to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out his umbrella and tapped the boat twice on each side and the boat soared towards land.

"So, why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" I asked, interested.

"Spells—enchantments," Hagrid replied, unfolding the newspaper, which was named, _The Daily Prophet._ "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults all the way at the bottom. Yeh'd die of hunger before yeh'd get out."

"Um, dragons?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't mind that I was asking questions while he was reading. I just wanted to know _everything._

"Yep! I'd like a dragon meself," Hagrid mumbled.

"Really?" I asked. "Are they…tame?"

Hagrid chuckled. "Not so much."

I stared at him, mouth open, while he read. "Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, after a bit. "Oh, fergot yeh don't know about the Ministry. S'like a government. Main job is ter keep us wizards and witches unknown to Muggles. They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister but he would never leave Hogwarts. Cornelius Fudge got the job instead and asks Dumbledore fer advice every day."

I thought about this and replied, "I can't wait to meet Dumbledore." We climbed out the boat onto land.

Hagrid beamed. "Yeh have no idea."

We walked along the streets, and I noticed a lot of people stared, and I couldn't blame them; Hagrid was huge! Plus, he kept pointing at traffic lights, fire hydrants, and laughing loudly, as if they were most ridiculous things he had ever seen.

I ran to keep up with him. I was extremely small for my age, so I took three to four steps as he took one. We took the train to London. I giggled on the train as people stared at Hagrid, who was knitting.

"Why don' yeh get out yer letter again? It says everything yeh need," Hagrid told me.

It told me I needed three sets of plain, black robes, a plain pointed hat ("Ha!" I said triumphantly. "I knew it!"), one pair of dragon hide gloves, one winter cloak, and a variety of books. Also, I was to buy a wand (I shrieked with excitement), a pewter cauldron, a set of crystal phials, a telescope, and a set of brass scales.

"Can I get this all in London?" I asked, dazed.

"Leave it ter me," Hagrid said proudly, beaming.

After that, I stayed quiet and followed him to London, on the underground trains, through the ticket barriers and crowds of people, and finally, onto a street where many 'Muggles' were passing quite ordinary shops. "How can I find a _wand_ here?" I asked, puzzled.

"We're not there yet," Hagrid replied, chuckling. "Hold yer horses."

At last, we stopped walking down the congested street and entered a pub, called 'The Leaky Cauldron.' It was almost invisible; you would never notice it; and I was almost certain that the 'Muggles' couldn't either.

It was dark and musty inside, but quite homey, and the bartender seemed to recognize Hagrid instantly. "Hagrid!" he called, smiling a toothless smile. "The usual?"

"Not today, Tom" Hagrid said, waving to a few people who also seemed to recognize him. There were several people in the bar. I glanced around nervously, stepping instinctively closer to Hagrid, the only person I knew. "I have business today," he explained, patting my wild locks of hair.

The bartender scanned his eyes next to Hagrid and looked me over. Then, his eyes nearly popped out of his head, to which I became confused once more. "It—it can't be," sputtered Tom, dropping the glass he was wiping clean, "Haile Potter?"

The entire pub became quiet and I was surprised my simple name had such a big effect. Everyone was whispering quietly and eyeing me wide-eyed. "Yes," Hagrid confirmed proudly. "I'm taking Haile shopping for her first year at Hogwarts!"

The crowd and the bartender jumped up, pushed away their chairs and scurried over to shake my— _my—_ hand. I was bewildered. Every single person in the pub shook my hand heartily, smiling and rejoicing; some even had tears in their eyes.

"Am I really so famous?" I asked Hagrid, shaking Doris Crockford's hand for the fifth time.

Hagrid beamed.

After the crowed cleared off a bit, a pale man approached me, looking a bit nervous and twitchy. "Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Haile, Professor Quirrell teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

Professor Quirrell gulped nervously, as if he couldn't dare to think about his subject.

"Defense Against the _what_?" I asked, intrigued.

"The D-dark Arts," Quirrell answered, stuttering terribly. "Your area of specialit-ty, it s-seems."

"Uh…" I mumbled, unsure of what to say. "Why are you so twitchy?" I inquired instead, noticing his eye and mouth twitching simultaneously.

Hagrid coughed loudly, and shuffled me along, through the immense crowd. "Haile!" Hagrid scolded, as we went out the back door, to a walled courtyard. Nothing was there. "Professor Quirrell took a year off ter get some experience and had a nasty experience with a hag and vampires…since then…scared of ev'rything."

"V-vampires?" I stuttered, mocking Professor Quirrell. Hagrid was counting bricks and he tapped the wall three times with his umbrella. Suddenly, right before my eyes, a small hole formed in the wall and grew bigger and bigger—until it was big enough for us both to walk through.

Without waiting, I rushed through it, and looked around, intrigued. **"** **Welcome to Diagon Alley."**

Hagrid led me towards the Wizards' bank, Gringotts, first, and I looked around everywhere, as if I was a squirrel with ADHD. It was just too exciting! I skipped along, bursting with happiness.

Suddenly they had reached a white building. The entrance door was blocked by a small figure wearing a bright uniform. "HEY!" I screamed, horrified. "Is that…a goblin?"

Hagrid hushed me hurriedly, and led me up the stairs. As we passed him, I got a good look. "Hi!" I said brightly to the goblin, as he bowed and we passed through the huge door. "I just said _hi_ to a goblin," I whispered to Hagrid, bemused.

Hundreds more goblins were inside, completing different tasks. We approached the front desk and Hagrid requested to take money out of my safe. _I had a safe!_

Hagrid dug the key out of his many large pockets. And after he handed him the key, Hagrid dropped his voice and told the goblin, "I've also got a letter from Albus Dumbledore. It's about You-Know-What in vault 713."

I watched wide-eyed as the goblin read the letter. "Very well. Griphook!" called the goblin, and out came another goblin. The goblin, Griphook, led us to one of the hundreds of doors leading off the hall.

"What are you getting out of 713?" I asked, curiously.

"Confidential," Hagrid said mysteriously. "Can't tell yeh once Dumbledore's trusted meh." I nodded in understanding.

We walked through the door and before us lay a narrow stone passageway which was steeped and contained railroad tracks on the floor. A small cart was summoned by Griphook and we climbed in. I was excited.

We zoomed through the maze of twisting passages. Griphook wasn't steering, so I was intrigued by the cart moving on its own. The cart crawled even deeper into the mines, and since Hagrid looked sick, I didn't ask him any questions.

Finally, the cart stopped. Griphook unlocked my safe for me and I gasped in surprise. Inside my safe were piles and piles of gold coins, which looked like they were worth _a lot_ , mounds of silver coins, and tons of little bronze coins.

"What are they all?" I questioned. Hagrid helped me shuffle some coins into a small bag, while he explained that seventeen silver Sickles made a gold Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts made a Sickle.

Next, we sped off even deeper into the mines, going extremely fast. I kept fidgeting, looking around at all angles of the cart and Hagrid had to hold me down to make me stop shaking the cart. Finally, we arrived. This time, Griphook stroked the door with a long finger instead of a key to make it open.

I didn't get to see what Hagrid put in his pocket, for there was only one thing in the whole entire vault, which Hagrid took.

"Let's get goin'," Hagrid told Griphook and me gruffly. "I hate this cart ride."

"Thanks for everything, Griphook! Can you believe I never even knew about all that money I have?" I giggled to the goblin. I held out my hand and he shook it, looking strangely at me. "I've never met a goblin before, so it's a real honor! I'm Haile, Haile Potter, but I suppose you know that already, because a lot of people do—"

Hagrid pulled me away hurriedly, as Griphook looked at me, bewildered and rather shaken. "Haile! You were ramblin' on an' on to a _goblin_. Be careful, please!"

"Okay," I agreed, smiling to myself. We headed to get my robes first. Maldam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was very nice. Hagrid left me there to get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. I stepped inside, a little nervous to be on my own.

Maldam Malkin smiled brightly as I walked in. "Hogwarts?" she asked airily. "Right back here, dear." I followed her and I stood on a stool next to a blonde boy who was undeniably good-looking, and being pinned by Maldam Malkin.

"Hello," drawled the boy. "Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I'm—"

"I'm getting my books and wand after this. And then I'm going to make my parents buy me a racing broom; even though we're not allowed to have them first year." He paused and looked at me. "Do _you_ have your own broom?"

"No, you see, I never—"

"Play Quidditch?"

"What?" I repeated.

"I do. I'm quite good at it. Don't tell me you haven't heard of it?" the boy asked incredulous.

"No, I was raised by—by Muggles," I explained.

"You _were_?" sneered the boy. "Muggle-born, then?" He turned his nose up.

"Well, my parents were witches and wizards," I told him. "But I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Of course it matters!" snapped the boy. "They're just not the same. They shouldn't let the other kind into Hogwarts, if you ask me."

"I don't see the difference," I snapped back coldly, not liking this boy at all.

"Know what house you'll be in? I expect I'll be in Slytherin," said the boy.

"No…what is—?"

"Look at that man!" said the boy. Hagrid was grinning at me through the window, holding two ice cream cones. I grinned back.

"That's Hagrid!" I explained, happily. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh…the servant or something?"

"Gamekeeper," I corrected, through gritted teeth.

"Savage, I heard. Lives in a hut on the school grounds, and—"

"I think he's brilliant," I said loudly.

He sneered, "Why is he with you, anyway? Where are your parents?"

"They're…" I sighed. "Dead."

"Oh, well, sorry. I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy," introduced the haughty boy.

He held his hand out and I shook it briefly. I didn't like this cocky boy very much. "You're finished, dear," she told me warmly. Draco and I waved good-bye, and I ran out of the shop, clutching my robes.

I asked Hagrid about _Slytherin_ and _Quidditch_. He briefly explained the wizard sport, Quidditch, and told me about the four different houses: _Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw._

I also told Hagrid about the boy and that he wanted to be in Slytherin, like the rest of him family. "You-Know-Who was in Slytherin," Hagrid said darkly.

"He was at Hogwarts?" I gasped.

"Years an' years ago," Hagrid told me.

I finished up the rest of my school shopping quite quickly, apart from being distracted by a number of interesting things along the way. "Just yer wand left! And I want ter get yeh a birthday gift."

"No, no!" I argued, blushing.

"I'll get yer an animal! An owl, o' course. Dead useful: they carry yer mail and ev'rything!" Hagrid told me. So, he bought me a lovely snowy white owl. I thanked Hagrid a million times and admired by new friend and pet.

We made our way towards Ollivander's wand shop. It was small, dusty place. This was what I had been really excited for. A magic wand…

"Good afternoon," came the voice of no other than Mr. Ollivander.

"Hi," I replied, looking into his pale eyes.

"Been expecting you," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Seems just yesterday your parents were in here buying their wands. You look _exactly_ like your mother. And, ah, there is the scar," he said, touching it slightly. "I regret selling the wand that did it. If I had known…oh, hello, Hagrid. Been well? Now, Ms. Potter. Wand arm?"

"I'm…right-handed?" I told him, shrugging.

"Hold your arm out," he told me and I obeyed, as he measured me everywhere, as he explained all about wands. After the tape measure stopped measuring on its own, Mr. Ollivander had me try several different wands, but none seemed to work.

Mr. Ollivander seemed to be getting even more excited every time a wand didn't work, but I felt discouraged.

Finally, Mr. Ollivander handed me a wand and once I took it, a warmth filled in my fingers and as I raised the wand above my head and brought it down, a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the tip, creating a very colorful, amusing show. I squealed with delight.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, good. But…how curious…very, very curious…" He kept muttering 'curious' as he wrapped up my wand for me.

"Sorry, but _what's_ curious?" I asked.

"It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand—holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple—gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

I gasped.

"Yes. I think we can expect great things from you, Ms. Potter. After all, You-Know-Who did great things…terrible, but great." I shuddered and paid for my wand.

I left the shop in a hurry, still a little shaken from my encounter with Mr. Ollivander. I wasn't sure if I liked him or not.

We made our way back to London, back through the Leaky and Cauldron. We stopped at the train station for a bite to eat before the train left. I was very quiet as we ate.

"What's wrong, Haile?"

"Oh, Hagrid…I just feel…so happy…but…everyone seems to expect great things from me! I'm not that great, okay? I can't even do a single spell yet. And I can't even remember what I'm famous _for_. I didn't _do_ anything back then…"

"You'll learn magic fast enough. You'll have a great time at Hogwarts, trust meh. Yeh've been singled out and that's hard. But yeh'll be okay."

We exchanged a smile. He gave me my Hogwarts train ticket. And I boarded my train back to the Dursleys. This had definitely been one of the most interesting days of my life.


	4. Chapter 4: Better Be Gryffindor

The last month with the Dursleys was probably the best month I had ever had with them. They completely ignored me. Dudley wouldn't even come near me, and that was a huge improvement.

I spent my time shut up in my room, only leaving to use the guest bathroom and to go down to the kitchen to get something to eat.

You might figure I'd get lonely being ignored and shut up in my room by myself. Well, I had my new owl for company: Hedwig. She was gorgeous, and I found that we got along right away. I let her out at night, and read my school books while I waited for her to come back, usually with dead mice in her beak.

On the very last night before going to King's Cross for my train ride to Hogwarts, my stomach was full of butterflies. I excitedly bounced down the stairs and approached my uncle for the first time all month.

Dudley screamed and ran from the room, my aunt chasing after him. "Uncle Vernon?" I asked a little timidly.

Grunt.

"Well…um, you see, I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow. To go to—to my school."

Grunt.

"Could you give me a lift? Please?" I asked, pleadingly.

Grunt.

"Thanks." I smiled happily.

Then, surprisingly, Uncle Vernon spoke to me.

"Funny you have to take a train. Where is this school, anyway?"

"No idea," I admitted, realizing just now I didn't know.

"Strange."

"I just have to take the train from platform nine-and-three-quarters," I recited, remembering the train ticket.

Uncle Vernon gave a loud snort. "Stupid girl, there _is_ no platform nine-and-three-quarters."

"My ticket says—"

"Well, well, we'll just see tomorrow, won't we?" my uncle told me, with a very nasty grin.

I trudged back up to my room, puzzled, but too excited to care. It took forever to fall asleep, but morning came quick enough. I completed my packing and dressed silently. I was ready to go an hour before we left.

Finally, Aunt Petunia made breakfast, and all four us set off to King's Cross.

Uncle Vernon helped me get my cart with my luggage into the station. _Why is he being so nice?_ I thought. Well, my question was soon answered: There was no platform nine-and-three-quarters. There was a nine and a ten, but no 'three quarters.'

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia laughed heartily and waved good-bye quite gleefully. Then they set off, on either side of my cousin, laughing to themselves.

I swallowed nervously. Oh, dear. What was I going to do now? I went up to the passing guard and asked about Hogwarts. He had never even heard of it. I was beginning to panic at the clock drew nearer to eleven o' clock.

Why hadn't Hagrid told me?

Then, a group of people passed me and I caught a few words of their conversation. "—packed with Muggles, of course—"

I turned around quickly and followed the plump, but kind-looking woman and her four sons and her one daughter. They all had red hair and freckles. They were pushing a trunk, also, and they had an owl. My heart leapt and I hurriedly followed them.

I watched as the oldest boy, 'Percy' his mom called him, marched toward the platforms nine and ten. Just as he reached the dividing barrier, he vanished as a large group of people walked by.

I stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, I watched two more of the boys (twins, Fred and George, I heard their mom call them) go through the barrier the same way. "Excuse me?" I asked the boys' mother.

"Hello, dear," the woman said kindly. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's, too." She motioned to the last of her sons. He was tall and gangly.

"Yes," I supplied, nodding. "I just—um, I don't know quite how to—"

"Get on the platform?" she asked, sweetly, and I nodded vigorously. "No worries, dear. Just walk straight between the barrier. Don't stop; you won't crash. Do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, dear."

"Um, if you say so," I said, shrugging, and ran my trolley towards the barrier. I gulped nervously. People walked by so I quickened my pace. I closed my eyes as I ran closer—and closer—my heart beat so, so fast—and then, I didn't crash!

I didn't actually crash! I snapped my eyes open and I was standing next to a crowded platform. A scarlet steam engine was adjacent to the platform: Hogwarts Express. I looked behind me. _Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters._ I smiled excitedly.

I boarded the train, and surprisingly, since I kept my head down and didn't make eye contact, no one stopped to shake my hand. I was very grateful for that.

I kept walking until I found an empty compartment, near the end. I successfully put Hedwig in, but I had more trouble with my heavy trunk. I was panting, and I exasperatedly wiped my loose bangs away from my sweaty forehead.

"Need some help?" asked one of red-haired twins from a few minutes ago.

"Yes, please," I said gratefully, and gave him a smile.

"Fred! Come and help!" called George to his twin.

Fred and George succeeded in heaving my trunk into my compartment. I thanked them gratefully and they shook my hand.

"Little thing you are!" Fred laughed. "What's your name?"

"Haile Potter," I said, without thinking.

George and Fred stared. "Blimey!" George exclaimed. "Look, Fred, she is, look at the scar!"

"Whoa," chimed the twins together. I smiled and shrugged.

"Come on, Fred and George!" called their mom and I sighed as they left the compartment with one last glance at me.

I watched out the window as the mother said good-bye to Ron, the twins, and finally the oldest boy, who came running up saying, "Can't stay long, Mother. Us prefects have got two compartments up front—"

"Oh, you're a prefect, Percy?" asked Fred (I was pretty sure it was Fred). "You should've said something, we had no idea."

The other twin chimed in, "Hang on, I think I recall him saying something about it…Once—"

"Twice—"

"A minute—"

"All summer—"

"Oh, shut up," Percy said, scowling. _What's a prefect, anyway?_

The mother continued saying good-bye and telling the twins to behave themselves. Then, to my surprise, Fred said to his mom, "Guess who we just met on the train, Mom?"

"Who?"

"The girl that with us just now," said George. "Haile Potter!"

"Oh, can't I go see her, Mom?" whined the little sister.

"No, dear," scolded the mother. "How do you know, Fred, George?"

"Introduced herself! Saw her scar…it's really there—like lighting," said Fred.

"Poor dear! All alone…I was wondering…She was so sweet…I never imagined her so tiny…and beautiful…"

 _ME?! BEAUTIFUL!?_ That was something new; Uncle Vernon would as soon call me beautiful than he would call his own son ugly.

The whistle blew and the mother shuffled her kids off onto the train. She waved good-bye and kissed them all as they stuck their heads out of the compartment. The little girl half-cried, half-laughed as she chased the train until it was out of sight.

I smiled sadly.

I was very excited. I didn't know what to expect, but it had to be better than the Dursleys. Then, the compartment door slid open and the youngest red-headed boy slipped in.

"I can't find a seat," he informed me. "Can I sit there?" He pointed to the seat across from me.

I nodded excitedly, grinning. I was happy to have some company. He tried hard not to stare at me; I guess my scar was really…noticeable.

The twins entered the compartment briefly after.

"Hey, Ron," said George.

"Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula!" said Fred.

"I love spiders!" I chimed.

"Haile," said George, smiling at me. "Did we get to introduce ourselves?"

"You're George—he's Fred, right?" I asked, giving them a small smile.

They stared. "How'd you know which one of us was which?" Fred asked, mouth open.

"I mean, you have a fifty percent chance, but still…even our Mom gets us mixed up sometimes!" exclaimed George.

I smiled and shrugged.

"Well, see you, Haile, Ron," they said, and left grinning.

"Are you really Haile Potter?" Ron asked bluntly. I nodded. "Oh…sorry, had to ask. Thought Fred and George might be joking. Have you really got the—"

I pushed my bangs aside and Ron gaped. "So, that's where…"

"Yeah," I replied. "I can't remember it, though."

"Nothing?" Ron asked.

"Well, a lot of green light, but nothing else," I said, shrugging.

"Wow," Ron said, and quickly averted his eyes to the window.

"I couldn't help noticing—are all of your family wizards?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Ron said, nodding. "Except for some second cousin who's an accountant…bit of a dud, I suppose…"

"I've been raised by Muggles…you're so lucky…" I said to Ron.

"What are they like?" Ron asked.

"Horrible! Well, not all Muggles. Just my aunt, uncle, and cousin. I'd love to have three wizard brothers!"

"Five," he said gloomily. "I'm sixth to go to Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie have already left. Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Percy's a prefect! Fred and George mess around a lot, but they get good marks and they're really funny. I've got a lot to live up to, I guess…and I never get anything new, either. Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat," he added, pointing to his trunk and then pulling out a fat, gray rat out of his jacket pocket, who was sleeping.

"How…cute," I mumbled, stifling my laughter.

Ron caught my eye and gave a small smile. "Scabbers. He's always asleep…Percy got an owl, but they couldn't aff—I mean, I got Scabbers instead." His ears went pink and he looked away.

I didn't think there was anything wrong with not being rich. I mean, until I had found out about my wizard fortune…I told Ron all about my horrid life with the Dursleys and Ron seemed to cheer up. Then, I told him about Hagrid coming to save me.

"And I didn't even know about even being a wizard or my parents or Voldemort!"

Ron gasped. " _You said You-Know-Who's name!_ " Ron said shocked and impressed. "I mean, you, of all people…"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything! I just didn't know!" I explained. "See? I've got so much to learn. I bet I'm the worst witch ever…"

"No," Ron told me, shaking his head. "Loads of people come from Muggle families and they catch on quick."

For a while, we just talked and found that we got along very well. Finally, around noontime, a witch pushing a cart appeared outside their compartment. "Anything to eat?"

I was starving, so I got up to look. Ron mumbled, "I brought sandwiches…"

I bought a little bit of everything, intrigued by the different sorts of candies I saw. Ron stared as I dumped everything on the seats.

"Hungry, eh?" Ron asked.

"Famished," I replied, starting to eat all the delicious candy.

Ron unwrapped a sandwich. "I hate corned beef."

"Why don't you have some of mine? I've got plenty; I'll never finish," I told Ron, happily.

Ron grinned and we made our way through most of the candy, until we were stuffed. I felt happy making a friend, and sharing something. I asked Ron what everything was and he explained heartily.

"These?" I asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "Are they really frogs?"

"No, but they come with a card. I've got hundreds!" Ron explained.

I unwrapped mine and it showed an old man with a crooked nose, half-moon spectacles, long, sliver hair and a silver beard and mustache. The name read: Albus Dumbledore.

"So, this is Dumbledore!" I exclaimed.

"Yep!" Ron said. He helped himself to a frog.

I read Dumbledore's card, which explained about his defeat on the dark wizard Grindelia, his discovery of twelve uses of dragon blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.

I turned the card back over and gasped. "Ron…he's gone!"

"Well, he's not just going to sit there all day," Ron laughed. "He'll be back."

"In Muggle photos, people just stay put," I told him.

"They don't move? At all?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. " _Weird!_ "

Next, Ron explained about Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, and how they really do mean every flavor!

I deemed them my new favorite wizard candy. I got cherry, cinnamon, pineapple, baked potato, bark, pancake, and jelly. It was very enjoyable. Ron got banana, fruit punch, steak, lime, cheese, tea, and salt. He said he got lucky.

There was a knock and the boy named Neville walked in. "Have you seen a toad? I've lost mine." We shook our heads and he wailed, "He keeps escaping!"

"He'll turn up," I told him, encouragingly.

"Hope so…well, if you see him…" He left.

"Oh! That reminds me," Ron said, grinning, pulling out his rat. "George gave me a spell to do; I wanted to try it on Scabbers. Makes him turn yellow!"

Ron grappled for his wand in his trunk and proceeded to pull it out. He was just about to speak when a girl came in, with bushy brown hair and large front teeth. She was sort of bossy.

"Seen a toad? Neville's lost his," she said.

"No," I said again.

"Doing magic? Let's see it, then," said the girl, crossing her arms.

Ron cleared his throat and said, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Nothing happened. Scabbers continued to sleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. Ron looked at me and shrugged. "I've tried a few simple spells and they've all worked for me. I'm the only witch in my family, so I was ever so pleased when I got my letter. I've learned all the course books by heart, but I hope it'll be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, taken aback by her fast, bossy voice.

"Haile…Potter," I mumbled, bracing myself.

"Really!" Hermione exclaimed. "I know all about you. You're in lots of books, of course—"

"Am I?" I asked, bemused.

"Of course!" Hermione exclaimed. "Do you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking, and Gryffindor seems to be the best…and Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. Anyway, I'd better go. You two should change, you know."

She left, and Ron and I looked at each other. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron said.

"What house are your brothers in?" I asked.

"Everyone's been in Gryffindor," Ron said gloomily. "I sure hope I am. Merlin knows if I went to Slytherin…"

"What do your old brothers do, now that they left school?" I asked, interested.

He explained about Bill working for Gringotts and Charlie in Romania studying dragons. "By the way, you hear about Gringotts? Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

"No way!" I exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Nothing! They haven't been caught. Must've been a powerful wizard, Dad reckons, but nothing was even stolen."

After that, Ron explained about Quidditch, which sounded very interesting. I listened, intrigued, until three boys entered the compartment. Two were very large and mean-looking, and in the middle of them was the good-looking, haughty boy from the robe shop.

"So, you're Haile Potter? Everyone's talking about you," said Draco to me. I stayed silent and Ron looked angry. "Crabbe and Goyle," he introduced, pointing to his cronies. "And we've met already. I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a small cough. I smiled. Draco Malfoy looked at Ron. "Think my name's funny, do you? I know who you are. Oh, yes, the Weasleys all have red hair, freckles, and more children then they can afford." Both Ron and I opened our mouths to argue furiously, but Draco held out a hand to me, saying, "You'll find that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

I didn't shake his hand. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are myself, thanks," I said coolly.

Draco's cheeks flushed and he said slowly, "If you're not careful, you'll go the same way your parents did. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."

Ron and I jumped up, angrily. "Say that again," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Get out," I said coldly.

"We'll see what happens, anyway," Draco said darkly and the three boys left quickly.

Hermione burst in and said, "Not fighting, are we?"

"No," Ron and I said, and Ron asked how I knew him already. I explained about Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family. Came back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. My dad doesn't believe that they were 'bewitched'."

"You'd better hurry and get dressed!" Hermione said hurriedly. "We're nearly there."

"Would you mind leaving while I change?" Ron asked Hermione, and I grabbed my own robes and followed Hermione out of the compartment.

"A bit cold, isn't he?" Hermione asked me and I shrugged and she walked away. I didn't know if I liked her or not. I found a compartment with three other first years girls and they let me change in there.

I talked with them a bit. Two were a pair of twins: Parvarti and Padma Patil. And another girl, Lavender Brown. They were all very nice. As I waved good-bye and left the compartment, I bumped into two boys. I introduced myself and they were first years too. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.

I was happy to meet some other first years and I happily walked back to Ron's compartment before a girl walked right into me. She had a pug-face and she raised her nose high in the air. "Watch where you're going, Potter!" she shrieked.

"Pansy!" called a girl on the other end of the train. "Come on, Pansy!"

"Coming!" she shrieked back and with one more dirty glance at me, she stalked away.

Before I went into my own compartment, I bumped into some more people. One was a very good-looking older boy and I couldn't help but stare.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said the older good-looking boy, as his friends chortled.

For the first time. I was glad I was a little famous. "It's okay," I said, and nervously, I brushed my bangs aside so my scar showed. His friends stopped laughing, and the good-looking boy stared.

"Are you—Haile Potter?" he asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Yes," I answered, smiling sheepishly.

"I didn't know you'd be coming to Hogwarts this year," he said, and his friends kept staring. "Wow…I'm Cedric, Cedric Diggory. We're third years."

"Hi," I said, flashing them a smile.

They all smiled back and as I walked away, I heard one of them tell Cedric, "I didn't think she'd be so pretty."

My mouth dropped open, stunned, but I continued into my compartment all the same. That's twice today! I shrugged it off. Not everyone can have perfect vision.

I slid into the compartment again and soon enough, we arrived. I was jumpy with nerves and Ron looked sick. Ron and I stuck together as we walked off the train into the night, and I heard a familiar voice calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right, Haile?"

"Hi, Hagrid!" I called, smiling.

"Follow me, firs' years!" Hagrid cried and we followed him down a steep path. Neville walked close by me, sniffling. He apparently had not found his toad yet. Then, I felt something move in my pocket and I jumped two feet in the air. I pulled out a small, slimy something and noticed it was a toad.

"Neville!" I exclaimed. "Your toad?" I showed him what had been in my pocket.

"Trevor!" he exclaimed happily. "Thanks…?"

"Haile Potter," I told him quickly.

Neville's face lit up and he grinned widely.

We walked around a bend, and Hagrid said, "Here's yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts!"

Everyone "Ooh!"ed.

The narrow path had opened onto the edge of a huge, black lake, On top of a big mountain across the lake, a humungous castle stood, with hundreds of windows, several towers and turrets. I was in awe.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid told us, pointing to several boats that were in the water. Neville and Hermione shared me and Ron's boat. "Everyone in? FORWARD."

The boats sailed swiftly and quietly across the lake. No one spoke; the sight of the castle in the starry night sky was just too beautiful.

Finally, we sailed through a curtain of ivy that hid a dark tunnel. We reached some kind of underground harbor. We clambered out of the boats and Hagrid led us up a passageway that led right to the front door to the castle.

Hagrid knocked three times on huge, oak door. We all crowded around, excited.

 _Hogwarts…my new home._ I smiled distantly.

The door opened instantly and the person behind it was a tall, dark-haired woman with a very stern face. I gulped instinctively. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid told her.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Even her voice was slightly stern.

The entrance hall was absolutely gigantic. Flaming torches lit the walls and the ceiling was so high you couldn't even see it. And an amazing, marble staircase led us to the next level. As we walked past a doorway to our right, we heard a loud rumble of voices. I figured the whole school must already be in there.

She led us to a small chamber off the hall, however. I stood close to Ron and Parvarti and Lavender. I was reassured that I was not the only nervous one. Many nervous faces peered at McGonagall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. "The start-of-term banquet will shortly begin. Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your house. The Sorting is very important; your house will become something like your family. You will classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you're at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn house points and your rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house that has the most points is awarded the house cup. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the school. I'll return when we are ready for you." She left.

Everyone talked quietly amongst themselves. I turned to Ron. "How do they sort us?" I asked nervously.

"Fred said something about wrestling a troll."

I felt like sinking to the floor. I frowned deeply instead. " _What_?" I hissed.

"He could've been joking," Ron replied, thoughtfully. But he looked as anxious as I felt.

Suddenly, several people screamed and almost everybody jumped. Because about twenty ghosts had just entered through the all. They were almost transparent and white-colored. One of the ghosts noticed us first.

"What are you doing here?" asked the ghost.

"First years!" said another plumper ghost. "About to be Sorted!"

We nodded. "Move along now, it's about to start," McGonagall said sharply, reentering the room. The ghosts disappeared through a wall. "Form a line. Follow me." I stepped into line behind the boy named Seamus, and we walked out the chamber and into the Great Hall.

I loved the Great Hall at once. It was magnificent. Thousands of candles lit the walls, five tables were arranged, one higher than the others where the staff appeared to sit and the ceiling was a whole different story. It was a deep blue sprinkled with stars, almost as if it was the sky itself.

Hermione whispered down the line, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. It says so in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Professor McGonagall placed a stool in front of the staff table and placed a pointed black hat on it. It was quite old and dirty. The entire school was staring at it—you gulped realizing the whole school was watching—and suddenly, the brim opened like a mouth.

And it sang.

The song was amusing and slightly long. I listened, intrigued, and when the song was ended, I joined in applause. "We just try on the hat!" Ron whispered to me, behind me.

I smiled a bit, feeling relieved, but I still was nervous about trying it on in front of the whole school. "When I call your name, put on the hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted."

She started with Hannah Abbott, then Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, and finally, Lavender Brown was the first Gryffindor. Justin Flitch-Fletchy was sorted into Hufflepuff, before Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor. Neville was also made a Gryffindor.

At this point, I was extremely nervous. I wanted to be in Gryffindor so bad! Or, at least, anything but Slytherin. I shook slightly, nervous about being in front of anyone.

Some took longer than others, I noticed. Some took a minute and some, like Draco Malfoy, had the hat barely touch their head before it shouted their house. Malfoy was made a Slytherin, of course.

Pansy was made a Slytherin, the two Patil twins were split up: Parvarti in Gryffindor and Padma in Ravenclaw. Finally, it was my turn.

"Haile Potter!"

I stepped over to the stool, with legs like jelly and my heart beating a million miles a second, while gossip broke out into the hall. All eyes were fixed upon me, wide-eyed and interested. _I really am famous._

I jammed on the hat. The hat spoke at once in my ear. "Very difficult. Very brave, fairly smart, talent…oh yes…there's talent…so where shall I put you?" _Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin._ "Not Slytherin, eh? Sure? You could be great, you know, it's right here, and Slytherin would help you on your way to greatness..."

 _I know my destiny is with Gryffindor._

"Well, if you're sure. **Better be GRYFFINDOR!** "


	5. Chapter 5: In A Century

The entire hall burst into a huge applause, and I walked toward the Gryffindor table, my heart beating excitedly and I could hardly keep the grin off my face. I looked back up at the Sorting Hat, and saw the staff table more clearly now. I grinned at Hagrid and at once noticed Albus Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell was there, too, wearing a strange, big purple turban.

Dean Thomas joined Seamus Finnigan at the Gryffindor table next. After a few more people, it was Ron's turn. Ron looked sick. I crossed my fingers under the table for him. Right away, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron hurriedly sat down next to me, grinning. "Yay!" I cheered and Ron shot me a grateful smile. Soon after, the Sorting Ceremony was over. I was starving.

Albus Dumbledore was now standing, ready to make a speech. Everyone grew quiet and gave him their full attention. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" he said. "Before we begin the banquet, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Pause. "Thank you!" He sat down. Everyone clapped and cheered.

I laughed, although I wasn't sure I was supposed to. "Hungry, Haile?" said Percy, who was sitting nearby. I gasped as I looked down at the table. The table was congested with food: meats, potatoes, vegetables, puddings…I licked my lips.

This was a definite improvement than being hungry all the time at the Dursleys. I grabbed a bit of everything and ate like I had never ate before.

"That does look good," said the ghost sitting next to me. I assumed he was the Gryffindor ghost, as every house was accompanied by a ghost.

"You can't eat?" I asked sympathetically.

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years. I don't need to, but one does miss it. I'm Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, by the way, resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said suddenly. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

The ghost sniffed, and stiffened, but nodded. "Yes, but I would prefer to be called—"

"How can you be nearly headless?" asked Seamus.

He groaned and grabbed his left year and pulled. His head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder. I gasped and Nick looked pleased at all of our stunned faces. "Like that. I hope you new Gryffindors will help us win the house cup this year. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming unbearable—he's the Syltherin's ghost."

I looked over the Bloody Baron and I was extremely intimidated. I looked away quickly.

Everyone finished eating, and the remains of food disappeared, leaving the plates clean as before. Then, there appeared desserts. I was full, but everything looked so good! I ate a bit of dessert as we all decided to talk about families.

"Half-and-half," Seamus said. "Mom's a witch, Dad's a Muggle. Didn't tell him 'til after they were married! Bit of a nasty shock for him." We all laughed.

Neville explained that he was brought up by a wizard and witch family, mostly by his grandmother. They thought he didn't have any powers until he was eight when he finally showed something.

Everyone was very interested in my life, being famous and all, and I told all about my terrible childhood with my bully cousin and cruel aunt and uncles. They all laughed at my funny stories and sympathetically reacted to my sad ones. I never had so many people be on my side, for once.

I looked up at the High Table, feeling a little sleepy. Professor Quirrell was talking to a teacher with greasy, black hair, a hooked nose, and pale skin. Suddenly, the black-haired teacher looked into my eyes, and a new, sharp pain shot across my scar.

I covered the scar with my hands and looked down. It went away just as quick as it had come. Was it the teacher? I looked back. He was staring at me, a shocked, surprised, horrified look on his face, as I reminded him of something that he hadn't thought of in a very, very long time.

Suddenly, realization seemed to take over his face, and his expression aprublty turned loathful and angry. His dark eyes burned mine until I looked away, almost trembling.

"Who's that teacher?" I asked Percy, motioning to him.

"Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he's been after the Dark Arts job forever," Percy replied.

Professor Dumbledore stood again and explained that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits. Also, no magic was allowed in the corridors, requested by the caretaker, Mr. Filch. Something about Quidditch trials and Madam Hooch, and then, the third-floor corridor is off-limits to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.

We then sang the school song and then the first years followed Percy to our common room. It took a long time. I was too sleepy to even be intrigued by all the moving staircases and talking portraits.

Before we reached the common room, a poltergeist named Peeves started to pick on the first years. Percy warned us to be careful of him; he was a troublemaker.

Finally, we reached the end of the corridor. A portrait was hanging on the wall of a fat woman wearing a pink dress. "Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis," Percy replied. The portrait swung forward and a round hole in the wall was revealed. We all scrambled through it and we arrived in the common room, a homey, round room with squashy armchairs and a roaring fire.

I followed Hermione, Lavender, and Parvarti up to the girls' dormitory, saying goodnight to Ron. Four four-posters hung with red curtains were all around the room. I said goodnight to the other three girls and fell asleep. This had been the best day of my life.

The next day was a whole new adventure. The two major aspects of the day was: one) finding the classes, and two) the actual classes.

Finding the class was insanely difficult for a number of reasons. First, I couldn't walk _anywhere_ without people staring at me (or glaring at me, in Malfoy's case), talking about me, or pointing at me wildly. In addition, landmarks around the castle were no help whatsoever. The 100+ staircases in the castle moved, had trick stairs, and disappeared and reappeared in certain spots—all depending on the day of the week or time of the day. People in portraits moved around often, so they didn't assist.

Nearly Headless Nick was very helpful, on the bright side. If Ron and I happened to see him on the way to class, he would always point us in the right direction. Peeves was a completely different story. Peeves and I had got off on the wrong foot the very first day. He had grabbed my nose from behind, which irked me very much because I was running late for Transfiguration, so I screamed bloody murder at him, calling him a few disdainful names. Ever since, we had been total enemies.

Filch was, by far, however, the worst. He seemed to have it out for all students; especially first years. And even if you managed to avoid Filch, his stupid, evil cat, Mrs. Norris was always lurking around, who would get Filch in an instant, for Filch knew all the secret passageways in the school (although not as well as Fred and George).

Filch, too, had gotten off on the wrong foot with Ron and I, because the second day we had been looking for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and was trying to burst our way open to the off-limits third-floor corridor. Filch had come ambling into the area, and I had made the mistake of asking him to let us in the room.

He asked us if it was some sort of a sick joke and escorted us personally to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom—by the scruffs of our necks.

I was amazed by our classes, however. We studied the night skies, the movements of planets, and we went out to the greenhouses a few times a week for Herbology with Professor Sprout. The most boring class was History of Magic taught by a ghost. Charms was quite interesting, and was taught by an extremely short wizard called Professor Flitwick. Transfiguration was also quite fascinating. McGonagall, of course, was very strict, but I couldn't help liking her. Professor Quirrell was too afraid to teach anything interesting, and he insisted on wearing that stupid, smelly turban!

Neville proved to be a bit failure of a wizard. He was a poor student, except in Herbology. Ron and I weren't the slowest, but we definitely weren't as bright as Hermione. Hermione Granger was easily the best witch of the year, earning points for answering every question correct in class.

Finally, the only class I hadn't attended was Potions. Ron and I looked at our schedule on the morning of Friday. It was a cheerful breakfast, for Ron and I had not gotten lost on our way to the Great Hall from the Gryffindor common room.

Ron and I were immediately best friends; I could just tell. We went to all of our classes together, ate meals next to each other, worked on homework together, and spent our free time in the common room and library together. I enjoyed his company very much.

Hermione and I didn't get along very well. Well, she didn't get along with a lot of people. Lavender and Parvarti were best friends themselves, so they were just acquaintances to me. Seamus and Dean, however, were quite friendly towards me, and we became friends instantly.

Hedwig swooped in the Great Hall bringing a small letter for me. I gave her some toast, while I unfolded the letter. Parvati and Lavender absolutely gushed over her, and Hedwig proudly soaked up the attention. The letter was from Hagrid; he wanted me to join him this afternoon for a cup of tea.

I wrote Hagrid back a positive reply, and sent Hedwig off. Ron and I hurried off to Potions soon after, however, why we were in a rush, I do not know.

Potions was probably the worst class I have ever experienced. You know, at the first night I was here, I thought Snape's look at me expressed dislike. But after the lesson, I realized it was more than dislike. It was _loath._

Potions was in the cold dungeons, the very lowest levels of the castle. I sat in the back with Ron, as far away from Malfoy as I could. Snape began by taking roll call. "Haile Potter…" he said softly. "Yes, our new—celebrity."

Draco and his cronies sniggered at this, and I looked around shiftily, not sure how to handle this. His eyes burned into mine, cold and empty.

Snape said his start-of-class speech, and everyone listened intently to his soft, but sharp voice. I felt extremely intimidated by him, for some reason, and I had no idea why he disliked me so. It confused me to the point of frustration.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot into the hair, but the rest of the class looked as puzzled as me. I shook my head slowly, and said, "I have absolutely no idea." A few people laughed quietly. "Sir," I quickly added.

"Clearly fame…isn't everything," Snape sneered.

"How about if I told you to find me a bezoar? Where would you look?" he asked, his mouth curling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," I said, as more laughter from the Gryffindors quietly erupted. "I've been raised in a house of—a home with muggles," I continued, trying out the word 'muggle' as it no longer pertained to me.

"EXCUSES! Tell me, Potter. What's the difference between the monkshood and wolfsbane?" he asked, more sharply.

"Look, I don't know," I said pointedly. "Try Hermione!" Hermione was now on her feet, hand outstretched to the ceiling.

Snape snapped at Hermione and explained the questions I had answered incorrectly. Also, Snape took a point off Gryffindor "for my cheek." The actual potion making was worse. He swept around, scolding the Gryffindors and praising Malfoy specifically.

Neville unfortunately melted Seamus's cauldron and Neville was drenched in the dangerous potion now seeping across the floor. Snape snapped, "Idiot boy! Take him off to the hospital wing!" Seamus obeyed.

"Potter! Why didn't you tell him? Thought he'd make you look good? Another point away from Gryffindor."

My mouth opened in protest, but Ron shook his head, signally me to keep my mouth shut. The class ended soon after, much to my glee, and we hurried off to Hagrid's, my mind still dwelling on the terrible Potions class.

We knocked on the door to his hut, and he opened automatically. "Back, Fang," Hagrid said to a big boarhound, and then turned to Harry and Ron. "C'mon in."

We went inside his one-room home. It was small, but extremely homey. "This is Ron," I introduced, pointing at Ron.

"Another Weasley," Hagrid beamed. "I know your brothers well. How's Charlie? Always liked Charlie."

Ron and I proceeded to tell Hagrid about our first week, while pretending to enjoy Hagrid's home cooking. I loved Hagrid, but his cooking was terrible. Fang wasn't as vicious as he looked. He continued to lick us and drool all over our robes.

I explained to Hagrid how annoying it was that Snape hated me. "Don' worry, he dislikes almos' all of the students."

"But he hates me most, I swear—"

"Rubbish! Why should he?" Hagrid asked, firmly. But he didn't make eye contact while he said that.

I noticed a newspaper clipping on the table, and I glanced over it. It was about the Gringotts break-in! Someone had tried to break into a vault that had been emptied the same day…wait a minute…"Hagrid! It occurred the day we were there!" I exclaimed.

Hagrid didn't meet my eye again. He didn't answer. Ron and I exchanged a suspicious look. What was so special about that little package? Where did it go, anyway? Was Hagrid keeping something from me, about Snape?

The following week I realized something. I finally met someone that I disliked more than Dudley: no other than Draco Malfoy. And what didn't help was that flying lessons were starting that Thursday. To make matters worse, Draco was always bragging how good he was on a broomstick. I had never even touched one before. And if things _couldn't get worse_ , Slytherins and Gryffindors were learning together.

"Great. I'm going to make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy," I groaned.

"Why do you care what he thinks?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I bet he's all talk."

The morning of flying lessons, the Gryffindor table was animatedly talking about flying and Quidditch. Neville got a package that morning: a Remembrall. Neville explained that it turns red if you've forgotten something. That seemed perfect for Neville.

Malfoy passed the table, snatching the Remembrall out of Neville's hands. Ron and I both jumped up. Professor McGonagall, however, was there in a flash. "What's going on here, boys? And Ms. Potter?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," Neville said weakly. Malfoy returned it immediately. He scowled and walked away.

It was a very nice day to fly, no matter how nervous I was. It was clear, breezy, and beautiful outside. The Gryffindors walked down the front steps together. We walked to the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest. The Slytherins were already there.

Twenty or so broomsticks lay on the ground, waiting for them. Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, was there, also. "Everyone stand by a broomstick," she barked. "Hurry now."

We all scurried towards a free broomstick. Mine was very old and tattered. "Stick out your right hand over your brooms and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

I was shocked; my broom flew right into my hand. Only a few others did. Some rose a few inches and some just rolled on the ground. I followed Madam Hooch's mounting instructions and when we got the chance to kick off from the ground a few inches, I performed it perfectly.

Happy to have found a branch of magic I was talented at, I hardly noticed Neville. I turned my attention to the sky, like everyone else, and saw Neville rising higher and higher and higher—

He fell. The broom ran away, but Neville was injured with a broken wrist. "Stay exactly where you stand while I take this boy to the hospital wing. Leave the brooms where they are or you'll be expelled straight away!"

She left hurriedly, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Malfoy sneered, "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up!" Parvarti Patil snapped at Malfoy.

"Look, it's that thing Longbottom had," Malfoy said suddenly, and picking up the Remembrall off the ground.

He held it up, the ball glittering in the sun; everyone watched, wondering what would happen next. I stepped forward, a boldness entering my veins. "Come on, Malfoy. Drop it!" I shot at him.

He gave me a nasty smile. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find…how about…up a tree?" He smirked contemptuously.

I yelled, "Give it back!" but Malfoy had already mounted his broomstick and flew as high as the top of the oak tree nearby. I gulped; Malfoy _could_ fly well.

"Come and get it?" he taunted, laughing at me. I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my broom and mounted it, ignoring Hermione's protests, and kicked hard up into the air, in a moment of brave instinct.

I soon realized that flying was the best thing invented in the whole entire universe. I was instantly rising up above the ground, an amazing bizarre experience. Soaring through the air, the wind ruffling my hair, my clothes whipping behind me. It was the best feeling I had ever experienced.

I pulled my broomstick up to make it go higher, and I heard people squealing and gasping, and I heard Ron give an encouraging yell. I turned my broom sharply to face Draco, and it easily obeyed.

"Give it _here_ ," I told him again, fiercely. "Or I'll knock you off that broom!"

Malfoy was looking a bit worried and stunned now. "Oh—oh yeah?"

My instincts acted again. I leaned forward and grabbed the broom tightly, and it shot forward towards him. Malfoy hurriedly dodged it, but only by a little. I turned it sharply again, and I heard the distant sound of clapping. "Where are Crabbe and Goyle?" I taunted, laughing.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he yelled at me, and threw the glass high into the air. It plummeted towards the ground extremely quickly.

I had to get that Remembrall, if it was the last thing I did. I leaned myself forward and the broom chased the Remembrall. Yes…I was gaining speed on it…I couldn't hear all of the cheering and applause below me…I stretched out a shaky arm, one-handing my broom, and when I was a foot from the ground, I grasped the smooth glass ball. I hurriedly pulled my broom straight and landed quite smoothly onto the bright, green grass.

Cheers erupted around me and many hands clapped my back, applause seemed to echo across the grounds…and then, suddenly, "HAILE POTTER!" came a sharp voice, belonging to Professor McGonagall.

My heart sank considerably as she strode towards the large, happy group, which was now a large, worried-looking group.

" _Never—_ have I _ever_ seen—" she began, her voice shaking with fury.

"No, professor, see Malfoy—"

"—wasn't her fault—"

"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Patil, enough! Potter, come, _now._ " I miserably followed McGonagall into the castle, leaving behind the Syltherin's triumphant faces and the worried, angry ones of the Gryffindors.

That's it. I lasted about a week. I would be expelled for sure now. I couldn't deny it. It was done. I miserably thought of going back to the Dursleys and tears welled up in my eyes. "Professor, am I going to be expelled?" I asked, quietly.

Professor McGonagall ignored me, but I saw the corners of her mouth twitch. The tears in my eyes disappeared at once. Finally, we stopped walking in the middle of a corridor, in front of a classroom. "Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

 _Wood?_ I thought, confused.

I stared at the doorway until a big, tall fifth-year boy walked out of the classroom, looking confused. I frowned. "Oliver Wood, meet Haile Potter," Professor McGonagall said excitedly, shutting the door. Oliver and I both nodded at each, still looking puzzled.

"What is this about, Professor?" asked Wood.

"I've found you a Seeker."

"No way!" exclaimed Wood, excitedly. His face lit up in glee and I wondered why.

"She's a complete natural! Was that your first time on a broomstick, Ms. Potter?" Professor McGonagall said, crisply.

"Yes," I said quietly, not sure what they meant.

Professor McGonagall pointed to the Remembrall that I still clutched in my hand. "She caught that thing after a fifty-foot dive. First time on a broomstick, not a single scratch!"

"Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it," Wood muttered thoughtfully. _Weasley?_ I thought. "Potter, ever seen a game of Quidditch?"

"Uh…" But they weren't listening.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team."

"She's just the build for a Seeker, too."

"Yes, small and speedy."

"A good broomstick she'll need! Cleansweep Seven or a Nimbus Two Thousand…"

"Professor, ask Professor Dumbledore if he can't bend the first-year rule. We haven't won the Quidditch cup in…so long…"

"I couldn't look Severus in the face for weeks!" She turned to me, suddenly, and said, "I want to hear you are training hard, Potter! Or I may have to change my mind about the punishment." Then, unexpectedly, her face broke into a smile. "Your father was an excellent Quidditch player; he would've been proud."

It was then and there that I gave a true, full smile. _Quidditch, eh? Flying on broomsticks…like a real witch! And my father did, too…_

"Stop pulling my leg," Ron said, later on at dinner. I just told him, Dean, and Seamus the story about what happened after I left the grounds. Dean and Seamus listened eagerly.

"I'm not!" I screeched excitedly.

"Seeker!" Seamus exclaimed happily. "Excellent!"

"I've read about Quidditch," Dean Thomas said, nodding. "It looks excellent…however, I still prefer soccer, but…"

Seamus interrupted. "But you must be the youngest house player—"

" **In a century**!" I said excitedly, shoveling food into my mouth. I was starving and excited, after a very successful day.

Ron smiled. "Good for you, Haile!" he exclaimed.

"But you three have to keep it quiet, okay? Wood wants to keep it a secret to the other houses, especially Slytherin." Dean, Seamus, and Ron nodded, understandingly.

Fred and George came ambling over to me. "Well done!" George said, "We're on the team, too. We're Beaters."

"We haven't the won the Quidditch cup since Charlie left. You must be good, Haile; Wood was practically jumping for joy when he told us," Fred said.

I smiled gratefully at them, and they left. Just as they walked way, Malfoy came up to me, with Crabbe and Goyle. "So, when are you going back to the Muggles?" Malfoy sneered.

"I see you're a bit braver now that you're back with your little—I mean…big?—friends, on the ground." I said, smiling.

"I'd take you on my own," Malfoy said, narrowing his eyes. "Anytime. Let's make it a wizard's duel, tonight. Wands only. Ever heard of a wizard's duel?"

I looked at Ron and Ron shot, "Of course she has! I'm her second, who's yours?"

"Crabbe," Malfoy replied, after sizing them up. "Midnight, in the trophy room."

When he had gone, I looked at Ron again. "What did you sign me up for?" I asked nervously.

"A wizard's duel. A second to take over if you die, that's me." I dropped my jaw in horror. "No, no," Ron said quickly. "You're both too inexperienced for that, anyway. You'll just do some minor stuff."

"What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" I whined.

"Try to poke his eyes out, I suppose," Ron suggested. I laughed.

"Excuse me." We looked behind us. Hermione Granger stood there, looking very superior.

"You're excused," Ron said, turning back to his half-eaten dinner.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy are planning," Hermione told me, instead.

"Sorry, but that was quite rude," I told her bluntly.

"You mustn't go wandering around at night! You'll lose points for the house if you're caught! It's really very selfish of you," Hermione said.

Ron shoveled the last of his food into his mouth, and spoke to Hermione with his mouth open with food. "It's really none of your business," Ron said thickly.

"Bye," I said, and we both left the Great Hall.

That night, I waited until Lavender and Parvarti had fallen asleep, and after many suspicious looks, so did Hermione. I got out of bed quietly and met Ron down in the common room.

"What took you?" Ron hissed.

"Hermione wouldn't go to bed," I said annoyed.

My heart beat fast. I knew I wasn't ready for a duel with Malfoy. What _were_ Ron and I thinking? Hermione was almost right: this _was_ a bad idea, but I couldn't back out now!

We started to go towards the portrait hole, but a voice came from the girls' side of the room. "I should go tell a teacher," Hermione said stubbornly.

"Not you again!" Ron groaned. "Come on, Haile."

Hermione followed us out of the portrait hole, still scolding at us quietly. Ron finally turned on her. "Go back to bed!" he said loudly.

I shushed him quietly. "Fine," Hermione barked. "But when you're on the train home tomorrow—"

She faced an empty portrait. Looks like the Fat Lady had gone on a midnight outing. Hermione was locked out, apparently.

"Great," I muttered, as Hermione rushed back to us.

"I'm coming, too," she said.

"No way," Ron hissed.

"I'm not going to be caught out here by Filch! If he finds all three of us, I'll just tell them I was trying to stop you and you'll back me up."

I couldn't believe she was doing this to us. "Hey, shut up!" I hissed, as Ron argued. "I heard something."

It was some sort of snuffling. We assumed it was Mrs. Norris and we all froze, scared out of our wits. When nothing happened, we turned around curiously and saw a figure curled up in a fetal position. We tiptoed nearer to him, and he jerked awake the second we got near.

"Yes!" he said, gratefully, as his drowsy eyes focused on us three. "I've been waiting for someone to find me; I've forgotten the password."

"Be quiet, Neville; the Fat Lady is off on a visit," Hermione told him.

"How is your wrist?" I asked suddenly, remembering earlier.

"Oh, Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute," Neville said casually.

"Good," I said smiling. The smile faded instantly. "Listen, we've got to be somewhere—talk to you later—"

"No, don't leave me here alone!" begged Neville.

Ron and I exchanged annoyed glances, and then finally Ron agreed, "Fine, but we better not get caught."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'll say."

I made the 'sh' signal to my lips, and we proceeded to walk down the dark corridors, only lit by occasional lanterns on the stone walls, or the moonlight seeping in from the windows. The trophy room was on the third floor, so that's where we headed, surprisingly not getting caught.

When we arrived, we appeared to be early. Several cups, shields, statues, and crystal cases shimmered gold and silver. I kept my hand in my wand, prepared. I was still feeling very anxious. But the time crept by and no sign of Malfoy.

A noise just outside the door made all of us jump a foot in the air. And shockingly enough, the voice didn't come from Malfoy. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

Hermione mouthed, "Filch!" silently, and we all, horrified, ran towards the other side of the room. When we barely turned the corner, Filch opened the door to the trophy room.

"They're here…yes, hiding…"

Filch was gaining on us, as he could move as quickly and loudly as he wanted, and we could only tiptoe quietly, trying to stay together. Suddenly, probably out of pure nerves, Neville let out a frightened squeal and tried to run away. Ron grabbed him to silence him, and Neville fell right into him—knocking him into a suit of armor.

I swear that even big old Dudley in his deep sleep could have heard the clanging and clashing, hundreds of miles away. "RUN!" Ron and I yelled at the same exact time.

The four of us pelted away, out of the room and into a corridor, not knowing where we were heading towards—just knowing we had to get away—and quick. Finally, we hid in an unlocked room, which was extremely hard to notice.

"We've got to back to the common room," Ron said quickly.

"Malfoy tipped Filch off, you do know?" Hermione said in a know-it-all voice.

"Yeah, let's just go," I said, feeling miserable.

Before we could leave the classroom, Peeves appeared, laughing hysterically. "Hooray! Ickle Firsties on the move! Should tell Filch, I should…learn your lesson, you ickly prickly—"

"Shut up!" I hissed. Peeves seemed to notice me, and then remembered we were rivals. His eyes grew large.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! QUICK! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" he bellowed.

Without a single spoken word, Ron, Hermione, Neville and I ran for our lives, out of the classroom and down the corridor. We hit the last door of the corridor, a dead end. The door, however, was locked.

Filch was running; I heard his footsteps. I began hysterical, close to tears. I couldn't go home to the Dursleys! I was going to be expelled! Stupid Malfoy, stupid—

"Oh, honestly," Hermione hissed, pushing Ron out of the way of the door. She grabbed my wand and tapped the lock with it. "Alohomora!"

The lock clicked and the door opened. Amazed, I followed an impressed Ron and whimpering Neville through the door. Hermione followed us quickly and shut the door behind us. We listened through the door hurriedly.

Peeves and Filch appeared to be arguing, but the argument ended abruptly when Peeves refused to tell him. We heard Filch speed off in a different direction.

Sighing with relief, I turned to face Hermione, Ron, and Neville. "I think we'll be okay n—" I stopped when I saw looks of terror of all three of their faces—and they were looking behind us.

I, very slowly, turned around. I couldn't even scream; that's how bad it was. My stomach turned over and my heart seemed to be erupting in fear. I realized with a terrible jot of remorse that this was the forbidden corridor on the third floor.

What stood in front of us was a ridiculously large dog—with _three heads_. Their six eyes stared evilly at them, their three noses sniffing ferociously, their three mouths baring teeth so large it seemed to be unreal.

I groped for the doorknob behind me, getting over the shock, and us four toppled backwards, hurriedly slamming the door shut behind us, just as the dog took a huge bite of air.

We ran, out of fear or adrenaline or both, but we didn't run into Filch or his horrid cat. We finally reached the Fat Lady, who was thankfully back in her own picture.

"Where have you been?" she asked, astonished at us. We were panting hard and Neville was close to tears.

"Pig snout!" I practically squealed.

We climbed messily into the common room and collapsed into squishy armchairs by the roaring fire. We all stayed silent, catching our breath, and shaking our head, doubtfully.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron finally blurted out. I almost let out a small laugh.

"Did you even notice?" Hermione snapped, standing up.

"Notice what?" I asked stupidly.

"The trapdoor it was standing on!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's guarding something, obviously. Now, if you'll excuse me," she continued, glaring at us, "I'm going to bed. We could've been killed or expelled. Well done!" She stormed out of the common room up to her dormitory.

I gulped. Ron said, "Like we would notice the floor. We were too busy look at its heads!"

After saying goodnight to Ron and Neville, I thought about something before falling asleep. The dog was guarding something, eh? Perhaps the little package that Hagrid had retrieved from Gringotts?


	6. Chapter 6: Wingardium Leviosa

The next day, I whispered to Ron about my suspicions about the dog and Ron agreed with me.

We both were excited to have another adventure even though it had been terrifying, but all in all, we bet even Fred and George hadn't even come one-on-one with a three-headed dog! Plus, a perfect opportunity to get even with Malfoy arrived a week later.

Hedwig dropped a large parcel onto the breakfast table, knocking over a series of glasses. Everyone looked on, interested. Then, a letter dropped right on top. It was lucky I had decided to read the letter first.

Ron and I read it: _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE. It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand. Do not go around bragging. Oliver Wood will meet you at seven o'clock for your first training session. Signed, Professor McGonagall._

Ron and I grinned excitedly. We rushed out of the Great Hall, excited to open the package, but ran into Malfoy. Malfoy pointed frantically at my parcel.

"That's it!" he shrieked, almost hysterical. "A broomstick, Potter! You'll be expelled!"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, in fact!" Ron blurted out. I elbowed him, but he continued. "A Nimbus is way out your Comet Two Sixty's league."

"Like you could _ever_ afford a twig of the Nimbus," Malfoy shot at Ron. Ron and I both lunged forward, but Flitwick appeared out of nowhere.

"All well?" he squeaked.

"Haile's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy told Professor Flitwick, beaming.

"Oh, yes, good, good!" Professor Flitwick said, smiling widely at me. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances. Is it the Nimbus Two Thousand?"

Malfoy's face dropped faster than a brick off a building.

"Yes, sir," I answered, smiling as if I had just won the lottery. "You know, it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I'm on the _Gryffindor House Quidditch Team._ "

Malfoy's jaw dropped in horror. "Oh?" Flitwick's eyes twinkled.

"What position are you going to be again, Haile?" Ron asked loudly. " _Seeker_ , was it?"

"Oh, and you're just the build for a Seeker!" exclaimed Flitwick. "Well, good day!"

Ron and I laughed hysterically as we ran up to the Gryffindor common room.

"Did you see his face?" Ron shouted in laughter, as I wiped tears from my eyes.

Ron and I sat talking in the common room for a while, until Hermione walked in, huffily. "Oh, wonderful. You break the rules and you get a reward. What ever was Professor McGonagall thinking? How will you ever learn?" Hermione rambled on, practically.

"Oh, lay off," Ron huffed.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us," I told her.

"It's almost seven. I best go up and get ready for bed," Hermione said, and with her nose in the air, she marched away.

"What a nutter."

I glanced at the clock. "It's almost seven! I've got to get down to Oliver Wood on the field."

"Oh, I'll walk you down," Ron offered generously.

We happily skipped down to the field and Ron said he'd come back down in an hour to walk me back up. I smiled as he reentered the castle. It was nice to have a friend for a change.

"Oi, Haile!"

"Hi, Oliver," I said, smiling. Oliver Wood was much older than I was. He was very tall and quite good-looking, I noticed.

"Wow, Haile Potter on our Quidditch team. Who would have known?" he said, beaming. "So, you really have got the scar. Eleven years old seems way too young for a Seeker…so prove me wrong, will you? Let me see what you have first."

I mounted my broomstick, still blushing slightly, and soared into the air, instantly gaining control of my Nimbus. This broom was amazing; it seemed to know where I wanted to go before I moved it. It was the most amazing feeling.

I flew around the field free-style until I heard Oliver yelling. His face was flushed with excitement and his eyes were shining. "Brilliant! Positively brilliant! Great Scott, you can fly. You've never ridden one before, then?"

"No," I admitted.

"Well, let's teach you the game of Quidditch. Then you can join the team for practices three times a week."

For about an hour, Oliver explained and demonstrated the game of Quidditch. It was so intriguing. I especially was excited about my part; the Golden Snitch. I couldn't wait to play an actual game.

As promised, Ron came to meet me at the entrance hall, and we walked up to the common room, chatting about Quidditch. We reached the common room and I realized that a new feeling had taken over my soul.

Happiness.

October came quite fast, and at the end of it, I felt like I had lived at Hogwarts all my life. Ron and I made friends with Dean, Seamus, and of course, Neville, and I usually joined them in their dormitory, talking and joking around.

My classes were going fine. I enjoyed all of them, except Potions. Snape continued to treat me with upmost dislike.

Sometimes, though, I would catch him staring at me, not with the usual loathful glances, but a curious, strange expression etched across the deep lines in his face…nostalgia, maybe.

On the morning of Halloween, we were in Flitwick's class, learning the levitating spell. Or, attempting to, anyway. Seamus and I worked together, but ended up joking around the whole time.

Ron wasn't so lucky in Flitwick's choice of partner. He got paired up with the ever-clever Hermione. Seriously, she may act like a know-it-all, but as hard it is for Ron and I to admit it, she really does know it all. She performed ' **Wingardium Leviosa** ' perfectly, much to Ron's displeasure.

At the end of class, Ron was in a considerably bad mood. As we exited class, he said exasperatedly, "She's a nightmare! No wonder nobody likes her!"

We heard behind us a soft cry and we turned around (Ron turning red). We saw Hermione burst into tears and hurry away down the corridor. I looked back at Ron, full of mixed feelings.

Ron himself looked uneasy, but shrugged it off. "It's not like it came as a surprise," he said, but still looked a bit guilty.

"She'll get over it," I offered. "Come on, let's go down to the feast."

"Yeah," Ron said brightly. "I'm starved."

Once we made it to the Great Hall, we looked on hungrily at the food on the tables. It was magnificent. Gold silverware and bright, colorful food decorated the tables. Ron and I happily sat down and dug in, forgetting about Hermione completely.

That is, until Lavender Brown came ambling by talking to Parvarti Patil about how Hermione was bawling her eyes out in the girls' bathroom.

Halfway through dessert, the strangest thing occurred. Professor Quirrell, turban and all, gave rushing into the Hall, looking paler and thinner than usual; and that's saying something.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!" he kept screaming, as he ran down the hall towards the staff table. He stopped abruptly and sighed, "Thought you ought to know…" and collapsed.

There was uproar. Students talked or screamed loudly while Ron and I looked at each other, unsure of how to take this news. Fred and George looked positively delighted. "On Halloween, too!" George exclaimed.

Hurriedly, we were shuffled out of the Great Hall to our dormitories. Ron and I were in the middle of the large Gryffindor group. Suddenly, I remembered Hermione.

"Ron!" I hissed. "Hermione won't know…"

"Oh, bother," Ron sighed, but since we knew it was his fault in the first place, we stayed behind. We somehow sneaked away to the girls' bathroom.

We hurried down the corridors, our feet echoing in the vast hallways. We finally made it to see a humungous figure stumble into our destination. "Hermione!" we both yelled and ran into the bathroom after the troll.

Hermione's scream echoed as we ran into the bathroom. She was backed up in a corner, looking positively terrified. "Hermione!" we yelled again.

"Dis—distract it!" I blurted out, scared out of my wits, but determined to not let Hermione die on Ron's account.

Ron chucked a faucet that had been destroyed at his leg. The troll roared with frustration, sending me running over to Hermione while the troll turned to Ron.

"Hermione! Let's go—now!" I whined, pulling her, but she seemed frozen in shock. "UGH, COME ON!"

Ron wasn't doing so well either. The troll advanced on him, and without thinking, I ran up behind the troll and threw myself on its back, sticking my wand up its nose. The troll roared again with pain and threw me off. I landed in a stall. "Ouch," I muttered angrily and getting back out in the open.

" **WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA**!" I heard a voice yell, and surprisingly enough, it wasn't Hermione's.

Ron's wand was high up in the air and the troll's club was, too. I stared in amazement as Ron fumbled with his wand and the club fell right on the troll's head.

Hermione and I screamed while Ron yelled. I saw the troll fall slowly backwards and risking my own neck, I ran to knock Hermione out of the way, making it quite swiftly.

The troll fell where Hermione had just stood. We all stood there in silence, Ron's mouth open, gaping at the monster, me patting Hermione awkwardly on the back, and Hermione speechless and shaking.

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking.

"No…" Ron replied distantly.

We stood there staring at it in silence, unsure of what to say until we heard footsteps down the corridor. We looked at each other hurriedly, to see whether we were going to run and hide or look innocent, but before we could decide, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Quirrell burst into the room.

" _What is going on here?"_ McGonagall's voice was soft, yet eerily wicked. All three of us gulped; Hermione looked close to tears.

"Professor—"

"You see—"

"It was my fault."

Ron and I stopped short and looked at Hermione in amazement. " _What_?" we hissed, inaudibly.

"It was my fault," Hermione repeated a little louder. "I was in the bathroom during the feast and…when it came in here, I figured I could take it on. If Ron and Haile hadn't found me, I probably wouldn't still be standing."

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes, but Professor McGonagall's mouth dropped in surprise. "Miss Granger! I would have thought better of you than to stick around to fight a troll! Fifteen points from Gryffindor. I am shocked at your behavior." Hermione hung her head. "Run along up to the common room, dear."

Hermione shuffled out of the room, her head down. Ron and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say. "Mr. Weasley and Miss Potter…it's quite extraordinary you could take on a full-grown mountain troll. Twenty points each, but watch yourselves from now on." She sighed, and Ron and I were dismissed.

Professor Quirrell absolutely beamed at us, while still looking queasy at the sight of the troll; Professor Snape wrinkled his face into an unmistakable grimace; and Professor McGonagall looked stern, but slightly…was it impressed?

Ron and I hurried back to the common room, reliving our adventure of the mountain troll loudly. Wait until Malfoy heard that we conquered that troll!

When we reached the common room, Hermione waited for us, while the rest of the House ate the feast, which had been transported to the common room.

We all looked at each other and broke out in laughter. We hurried to get food. We sat with each other.

From that day on, Hermione was our friend. We formed a tight threesome, and I was extremely content.

She was a really good friend, too—Ron and I would have never survived our schoolwork without her. Also, she was a really good person to talk to and listen to; we stayed up into the night having conversations in our dormitories while the rest of the girls slept. Parvarti and Lavender were nice girls, too, and sometimes we all sat and talked about…you know, girl stuff. I had never had this kind of connection with people before.

As November came around, the air turned crisp and chilly and the trees turned brown and red and gold and orange. I loved November; it was such a promising month; not to mention, Quidditch season had officially started and my first game ever was coming up against Slytherin.

One day, Hermione, Ron and I were in the library, working on an essay for Professor Quirrell. We were talking quite loudly, being young and stupid, and unfortunately, Professor Snape walked—rather, limped—by our table at the same moment as Ron made a very funny impression of him.

Snape must have recognized it—which proved it really was a good impression—and took thirty points from Gryffindor for it. Ron waited until Snape limped away to angrily mutter things about him.

However, I didn't complain about the unfairness—I was more interested in the hurt leg. "Did you see him limping?" I asked Ron.

"I saw the old slimy git, I did…"

"Ron," Hermione said patiently, "she means, what happened to Snape's leg?"

"Dunno," Ron said, lowly.

"Well, I want to find out," I said determined.

"How?" Hermione questioned, practically.

"Can't I just…casually ask him?" I asked.

"Are you stupid?" Ron asked, and even Hermione gave a skeptical face.

"Oh fine then."

But it didn't leave my mind.

On the night before the first Quidditch match of the season, I found out.

I was walking down to the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione when I needed to use the restroom. I excused myself and they went on without me. I was still a little nervous about using the girls' bathroom after the troll had been in there, but I was getting over it.

As I made way to the bathroom, I heard hushed talking in a classroom. The door was slightly ajar and I peeked inside, curious. My mouth fell open at what I saw. Snape was showing Filch his injured leg; it was a nasty sight.

"How are you supposed to get passed the three heads?" I heard Snape ask. I gasped.

Snape unfortunately heard me.

"POTTER!" he yelled. Filch smiled rather evilly as he opened the door and I stepped away, my face white.

Filch left Snape to deal with me, with Mrs. Norris at his heel. Snape had cornered me into the opposite wall of the corridor and held me by my hair. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Snape yelled.

"Sir, I couldn't help but—"

"DON'T YOU EVER—WHAT DID YOU—GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Snape raged furiously and stormed away, letting me go. I sighed with relief and ran away to the bathroom.

When I returned to the Great Hall, I told Hermione and Ron. They were shocked; Ron at the injured leg and Hermione at the fact that a teacher— _a teacher!?—_ would hold me by my hair and scream at my face.

"I told you Hermione—he hates me. And Ron…he's trying to get past the dog, too? Why, though? What is the dog guarding that Snape wants?"

"Dunno, mate…"

"Haile...I think you should forget about it for now. It's wrong to think Professor Snape is trying to steal something—something important. You need your rest for the game tomorrow!"

"Oh, Hermione," I said, but obliged. I went up to bed soon after, and I tried to get my rest. My mind still pondered about Snape. _What was he up to?_


	7. Chapter 7: Desires of the Heart

The next morning came way too quickly. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that my nerves seemed to have intensified by a billion. My stomach was full of butterflies that just wouldn't settle down.

Trying to get me to eat breakfast was a failing attempt, as Hermione, Seamus, and Ron soon found out.

Hermione offered me toast. "Please, Haile, eat something."

"No."

Ron shoved eggs under my nose. "Don't they smell good?"

"No!" I pushed the egg away.

Even Seamus tried. " _Bacon good_!" he exclaimed, shoving bacon in his mouth, using an old-granny voice.

Everyone stared at him.

"It worked for me when I was kid…."

I slammed my head down on the table. Finally, Dean handed me a glass of pumpkin juice. "Just drink something, then. When I play soccer and don't drink anything, I faint!"

I definitely didn't want to faint. I chugged the pumpkin juice and finally let Hermione butter me a half-slice of toast. Hermione looked relieved, but Ron kept shooting me nervous glances. When it was time for me to go get ready in the locker rooms, Ron patted me on the back.

"Good luck, Haile," he said, gulping.

Hermione, however, was more reassuring. "You'll do great," she said with a smile.

The locker rooms were a bit more comfortable. Everyone seemed to be having the same nerves. Oliver Wood finally stood up once we had all changed, and he cleared his throat.

"Alright. This is the big one. The one we've all been waiting for."

Fred and George sniggered.

"Oi, you two! Shut up!" Oliver yelled.

Alicia Spinnet, Angelina Johnson, and Katie Bell, who were the girl chasers of the team, laughed at Fred and George. I was too nervous to do anything.

Oliver eventually gave up on the speech and just nodded and said, "What we practiced, then."

Finally, it was our time. We flew out, making a big entrance, as Madam Hooch announced our teams. My worries evaporated as I regained the feeling of being under a broomstick, in the air. The Slytherins soared around in brilliant shades of green and the Gryffindors in magnificent shades of scarlet.

 _I could do this. I could do this._

We landed on the cold, wet ground as Madam Hooch made the two captains shake hands. Wood and the Slytherin captain, an unfriendly-looking chap, Marcus Flint, shook hands, but in a death grip. Madam Hooch finally looked at us all.

"A nice fair game, all of you." Her whistle blew.

At first, I forgot what I had to do. Then I saw Fred and George give a thumbs-up sign and I flew into the air.

Then, I forgot what I was supposed to be doing up _in_ the air. I watched the players for a while, immersed in the exciting game happening. I listened to the commenting, by Lee Jordan, Fred and George's friend. He was very funny; he kept taking the Gryffindor's side, to which Professor McGonagall scolded him.

Then, it dawned on me that I was supposed to be winning the game for them! The Golden Snitch. I slapped my forehead and flew up high, high above the teams, surveying the field; Wood's game plan for me.

I continued listening to the commenting, while trying to keep track of the game. The Chasers threw the quaffle fast; Oliver Wood seemed to be blocking almost every shot; and Fred and George kept busy by hitting the Bludgers at the other team.

Suddenly, without warning, I saw a Bludger coming straight for _me._ I was stunned; didn't have time to think; I was going to be hit and fall and die….

The Bludger never hit me. Fred on his broomstick was hovering next to me, chuckling a bit. "Close one, Haile! Be careful! Call if you need me." He dropped back down. I sighed in relief and gratitude.

I waited a bit more, looking around everywhere for the Snitch. Finally, when I got bored and flew down a few feet, I saw it. A Slytherin Chaser was soaring across the field with the quaffle, and the Snitch was right behind him, by his ear.

I wasn't the only one who saw it. Everyone did. All the players stopped playing; the Slytherin Chase, Adrian Pucey dropped the quaffle; the crowd grew silent and Lee stopped commenting.

The Slytherin Seeker, Higgs, and I were the only ones moving. We were even, racing towards it. He was obviously much bigger than me, and more experienced, however, my broom was faster. We were neck-and-neck until—

WHAM.

A huge force sent me flying off direction and before Higgs could grasp his fingers on the Snitch, the whistle was blown. The Gryffindors were yelling and screaming in protest. Apparently, Marcus Flint had stopped his broom directly in front me, an obvious block.

Katie Bell easily made the foul shot. But we were all still very angry. I had lost sight of the Snitch. I returned my post at the top of the field, looking down, though this time I was a bit more nervous. What if Higgs saw it before me? What if turned up right in front of his face?

While I pondered these things, my broom jerked forward. "Woah!" I yelled, tightening my grip on the broom. "That was weir—"

My broom jerked again, sending me to the right. But it didn't stop with that. It kept jerking me forward, left, right, down, up, backwards. I had absolutely no control. I desperately tried to get Wood's attention, so we could call a time-out, but my broom was flying too uncontrollably.

I didn't even know if anybody saw me at all. I probably looked like a terrible flier. Then, suddenly it flung me so hard and out-of-the-blue, that I lost balanced, and fell. At the last second, I caught the broomstick with one hand.

I screamed, fighting to get back of the broom. The Slytherins were laughing cruelly, but the Gryffindors were gasping and screaming with me.

 _I'm going to fall, I'm going to fall._

"Haile!" Fred and George were calling my name, their hands outstretched.

"Help!" I cried desperately. However, when they got close enough to help me, my broom would jump higher away from them. Eventually they considered it hopeless and hovered beneath me with the rest of team, hoping to catch me.

"Do brooms usually try to throw off their riders?!" I screamed helplessly.

"No!" came the yell of Oliver Wood. His voice was cracked. I looked over and saw Flint score two goals.

"Oliver, go back! We'll lose!" I screamed, as the broom jerked back and forth but my grip remained tight. I was scared to death, but I didn't want them to lose the game on my account.

The girls cried "No!" and Oliver stayed where he was.

Finally, the broom stopped jerking. I didn't dare try to get back on for a few seconds though, in case it was a trick. But finally, I just clambered back on my broom. The crowd erupted into cheers and I flew again, completely in control of my Nimbus. The rest of the team resumed their positions on the field, smiling happily.

The game wasn't over yet.

The broom didn't spaz again, so I was happy. I was wondering what the heck was going on with it, though.

Then, I saw the Golden Snitch. I laughed in delight and sped towards it. This time, however, Higgs didn't even seem to notice. Actually, no one else did either.

However, the Snitch kept moving closer and closer to the ground—if I didn't catch it, I'd crash. Then, the Snitch stopped a few feet up from the ground without warning. I jerked my broom upwards with cheers from the crowd, and grabbed the Snitch with my right hand.

The game was ended. The Slytherins looked completely confused and angry, and the Gryffindors cheered nonetheless. Wood was thrilled with my performance.

Fred and George lifted me up high, and the three girls hugged me as well. I escaped from the crowd soon enough, because Hermione and Ron had to inform me of the curse Snape had put upon me up in the air, and how Hermione had to light his robes on fire to stop him.

After I thanked her a million times for saving my life, she hurried me to Hagrid's hut for a cup of tea. Hermione tried to convince Hagrid, but Hagrid refused to listen.

"Oh, that's rubbish!" Hagrid boomed. "Snape wouldn' try to hurt a student!"

"Oh, really?" I said angrily. "Hagrid, on the night of Halloween, he tried to get past that dog guarding whatever on the third floor!"

Ron and Hermione looked at Hagrid.

"Wha'?! You—you know about Fluffy?"

"Fluffy?!" Ron shouted.

"Yeah…bought him off someone for Dumbledore. He's guardin'—now you three listen here. It's none of your business! It's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel and you kids shouldn' be pokin' 'round—"

"Nicholas Flamel?" Hermione asked. "Who's that?"

Hagrid narrowed his eyes and slapped his forehead. "I'm not sayin' nothin'."

"You used a double negative, Hagrid," Hermione pointed out lightly.

" _Oh_ ," he grumbled.

We left soon after.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you before," Hermione admitted on the way back to the castle. "Snape is definitely up to something."

"We'll try to figure out what it is," Ron agreed confidently.

"So let's get to the bottom of that Nicholas-Flamel-three-headed-dog thing first," I suggested.

In the next couple weeks as November ended and December swept in with cold, chilly weather and lots of snow, Ron, Hermione, and I spent most of our free time in the library, trying to find Nicholas Flamel.

So far, we had been most unsuccessful. The Restricted Section held many important books, and we were sure we'd find _something_ in there, however, you had to get a note signed from a teacher, and it was too much worth the risk to tell them what we were up to. So, we had to reside to searching aimlessly through the books the library offered.

Also, most people had signed up to go home for the holidays, including Hermione. However, Ron and his brothers were staying, because his parents were going to Romania to visit his older brother, Charlie. It looked to be a very promising Christmas.

One day, Ron and Hermione were in the library researching and I needed a bit of fresh air. We took shifts in who got a break every half an hour and it was my turn. Instead of going up to the common room, I went outside and watched Hagrid cut down trees to decorate the Great Hall with.

I stood outside, right in front of the entrance hall doors, in my big, comfortable coat, my Gryffindor scarf whipping the in chipper wind, and my locks of black hair flying behind me. My cheeks were red from the cold.

"It's a shame."

I whipped around, to see who had spoken, but it was just _Malfoy._ I turned back around, my face set, determined not to let him bother me. "What?"

"I said, it's a shame." He stood right next to me.

"What's a shame?" I blurted out without thinking.

"That some people aren't wanted at home and have to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays." He smirked.

"Oh, not at all," I said, turning to him brightly. "In fact, I'm quite happy to be staying here."

"Oh?" He cocked his eyebrows. "Well then, Potter. Enjoy your Christmas."

"Yours too, then," I said, brushing my hair out of my face.

"Your cheeks are bright red from the cold," he told me, studying my face for a moment, and with an air of confidence and arrogance, turned around and walked into Hogwarts.

I stared after him as he walked away, the bitter wind whipping my black curls against my face.

I helped Hagrid drag two trees in the Great Hall before returning to the library.

Everyone cleared out by the time Christmas came, and honestly, it was kind of nice. Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were the only other inhabitants of the Gryffindor common room, basically, and we had a fun time, playing wizard chess (to which Ron creamed me every time) and talking and laughing about teachers and enemies.

The Christmas Eve feast was magnificent, except for the fact that I made the mistake of asking Snape whether he had a family to spend Christmas with. Let's just say I rather not re-experience the look he gave me ever, ever, _ever_ again.

That night, Ron and I went to bed quite early. (I had taken to sleeping in his dormitory because one: nobody cared and two: it reminded me of sleeping at the Dursleys to sleep by myself in the dormitory.)

On the morning of Christmas, I screamed with delight, awaking Ron with a start. "I have presents!" I squealed.

"Well—yeah," Ron said yawning.

"I've never got one before," I explained to Ron.

"Never got a Christmas present? Blimey, Haile…the Muggles were really that bad?"

"They pretended I didn't exist on Christmas," I said brightly, looking at my presents. Ron and Hermione and Mrs. Weasley gave me food, and made me a sweater. She made Ron, Fred, George, and Percy one, too.

Fred and George came in wearing theirs. "Like our sweaters?" Fred asked.

"They're smashing, eh?" George said proudly.

They were the type that could wear dorky sweaters and get away with it, because they were humorous.

I pulled mine on. "And look, Haile's got one, too!" Fred exclaimed.

Ron reluctantly pulled his on. Percy came in to wish Ron a Merry Christmas and Fred and George forced a sweater on his head. They left soon after, Percy complaining and Fred and George laughing.

Ron noticed a thin box underneath the opened boxes of my pile. "You've missed one, little H."

I opened it up and pulled out a long, slippery, silvery-almost-transparent cloak. "What's this?" I asked.

Ron gasped. "Bloody hell, Haile! It's an Invisibility Cloak! They're the rarest things I can think of! Try it on, go on!" he exclaimed.

I put on the cloak, confused, and I stared at myself in the mirror—rather, what was left of myself. My whole body was missing. I took off the cloak, scared out of my mind and my body was back. _It really does make you invisible!_

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

"There's a note!" I said, and I read it aloud. "'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well…A very merry Christmas to you.' Weird!"

Ron was too busy trying on the cloak. "Is it signed?" he asked distantly.

"No…isn't that strange?" I said, plopping down on my bed, utterly puzzled.

"Well, someone must like you a lot to give this back to you. It's pretty rare!" Ron exclaimed, handing the cloak to me. The silvery material was extremely silky and smooth.

"Yeah…wonder who it is."

My Christmas was very enjoyable. Fred and George gave me piggyback rides all day out on the snowy grounds. Christmas dinner was a fun affair, and the Weasleys and I had snowball fights and wizard chess games before going to bed, exhausted.

I, however, was not tired in the slightest that night. I thought for a few minutes, wide-awake, and it dawned on me that being invisible…meant no one can see me…(No…really!?)

I jumped out of bed, but quietly, as to not wake Ron up. I slipped on my Invisibility Cloak I left on the bedside table, and walked out of the boys' dormitory.

The Fat Lady was utterly confused as I slipped out of the portrait hole, and with a rush of excitement, I continued down the halls of the castle. At first, I wasn't sure where I should go; then I remembered the Restricted Section in the library!

I giggled to myself and hurried over there, looking at the books as I pleased. I felt extremely furtive. I looked through several books, but nothing about Flamel was in there. However, I got to one book, and as I opened it up, it screamed.

I swear, the whole castle probably heard it. I tried to close it shut, but it kept screaming and screaming. I heard voices and footsteps approaching, so in a state of panic, I dropped the book and turned to run away.

Then, the people whom the footsteps and voices belonged to appeared behind me. At first, my heart sank and then I recalled I was still invisible. _Yes!_ I backed away slowly, as Filch and Snape examined the evidence of the book and looked around for the culprit.

Lucky, there was a door at the end of the hallway, and slipped into it unnoticed. I laughed happily to myself, as I was in the room, but my laughter faltered when I saw what room I was in.

It was like a classroom that hadn't been used for centuries. It had an eerily blue-ish air around it, and it was very dusty and old. In the corner stood a very large mirror. Curious, I walked across the classroom, my footsteps echoing across the room and making footprints into the dusty wood floor.

I stood in front of the grand mirror and I gasped at what I saw. Two people stood behind me. I looked hurriedly behind me, but no one was there. I looked again, now there were more people. I gaped at the mirror, and kept looking behind me, but no one was there.

I stared more closely at the reflection and it dawned on me with overwhelming emotion that the two people directly behind me were my parents. I shook, as I studied them, having seen no pictures of them ever. My mother _did_ look exactly like me except for her radiant red hair. We had the same small, straight nose, the full lips, and shiny, big green eyes. My father had messy, jet-black hair, glasses, and was tall. I didn't really look anything like him…except for our untamable hair.

My eyes filled with tears, but I didn't let them fall. I smiled at my parents, and they smiled back. I looked and looked and looked until I felt it was getting too late. I said good-bye to my parents and went back to my dormitory.

I told Ron eagerly in the morning. "Really? If you're going again, I'd like to come. I'd like to see your parents."

So that night, Ron and I sneaked back there without interruption, and I surprisingly remembered where it was. I looked in the mirror and saw my parents once again. My heart leapt.

"I can't see anything, Haile," Ron said, squinting at the mirror.

"Stand here," I said, jumping aside. Ron positioned himself directly in front of the mirror.

"Blimey!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up.

"Can you see my mom?" I asked excitedly.

"No, but…I see myself! I'm Head Boy and Quidditch captain! Wow, I'm really tall and…wow!" Ron exclaimed, entranced.

"What? You can't see them?" I asked, confused.

"Nope…but this is a really cool mirror. Hope it tells the future!" he said happily.

"My parents are dead…" I sighed, shaking my head.

"That's right," Ron agreed sadly. "Let's go back, Haile. I've got a bad feeling about this mirror."

"Why?" I asked.

"I dunno…seems a bit spooky. Don't come back."

We went back up to the dormitory, and I knew that I was going to go see my parents no matter what.

I did exactly that the next night. I stared, entranced, for what seemed like hours, staring at them. They were my parents! I had never seen them before!

"Back again, Haile?" came a slow, old voice from the corner of the room.

I whipped around, startled. My heart fell, when I saw it was no other than Professor Dumbledore. "Oh …" I sighed, hiding my face with my hands. "Um, Professor, I—"

"Found the Mirror of Erised? Yes, Haile, indeed you have."

"Erised? Listen, Professor, it shows me my—"

"Parents? Yes, indeed it does. Haile, do you understand the purpose of this mirror?" Dumbledore asked me.

"Well…it shows us what we want."

"It shows us **desires of the heart**. It shows neither knowledge nor truth. Now, tomorrow, the Mirror will be moved to a new home. Do not come looking for it."

"Yes, Professor. I apologize." I hung my head. "It's just…" I started, looking up.

"Do not worry, Haile. Now, go up to bed."

I waited until I was out of the area before slipping on the cloak. I couldn't let Dumbledore know I had an Invisibility Cloak! He'd take it away in an instance. I hurried back up to the dormitory and fell asleep.

Hermione returned a few days later, and I told her of my adventures. Instead of scolding me for being out of bed at night, she was angry that Ron and I had found nothing about Nicholas Flamel.

I didn't go looking for the mirror again; however, over the next week or so, I began to have the most terrible nightmares. I would wake up shaking, sometimes even crying, and once or twice screaming. Hermione, Lavender, and Parvarti would jump up and ask me what was wrong. I usually just lied and said I saw a spider or something.

Luckily, Quidditch practice resumed which meant I had something to keep myself occupied with, along with all the work we were given; for classes, too, had resumed.

Oliver was working the team quite hard. A big match was coming up against Hufflepuff and if we won, we would overtake Slytherin. It was a big nerve-wrecking situation.

Plus, one night, Oliver informed the team that _Snape_ would be refereeing. "WHAT!?" we all screamed in protest.

"I know, but we don't have a choice," Wood told us. "Just keep it a nice clean game, okay?"

" _A nice clean game_!" Fred mocked. "Everything we do is going to be wrong! We'll smack a Bludger and it'll be a penalty, just you wait."

I, too, was upset about this, because of the last game's mishap. I told Ron and Hermione right after practice. "WHAT?!" they exploded simultaneously.

"Um…yeah, Snape's refereeing," I repeated.

"You're not playing."

"Hermione!" I protested.

"Seriously, Haile. You can't, mate."

"Ron!" I protested. "Guys—there's no alternate seeker. I don't have a choice here!"

"Oh, but…" Hermione sighed. "I'm going to keep a sharp lookout. If I see anything suspicious, I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall!"

"Okay," I sighed, relieved. "I think it'll be okay… hopefully."

Hermione and Ron exchanged nervous glances. That didn't make me feel better. At all.

At that moment, Neville burst into the room, hopping with his arms and legs bound together with some kind of invisible force. Everyone laughed, but Hermione performed the countercurse. "What happened, Neville?" I asked.

"Malfoy!" Neville sobbed. "He has it in for me…"

"Oh," Hermione sighed, leading him to a chair.

I gave Neville a chocolate frog from my pocket. "You're worth twelve of Malfoy," I told him.

Neville smiled weakly. "Thanks…I'll think I'll go up to bed." He left the card from the frog on the table. I picked it up absent-mindedly.

"Dumbledore…" I told Hermione and Ron, who looked extremely drowsy. "He was the first card I ever…" I flipped the card over and gasped, jumping up.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"FLAMEL!" I exclaimed. "He's on the back of the card! ' _…_ _his work of alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel_!'"

Hermione jumped up and ran to her dormitory without a word, while Ron and I exchanged excited glances. Hermione came back down in a second, with a large book. "I should've known to check in here!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron, Hermione, and I read the section about Nicholas Flamel. Hermione gasped at the part at the Sorcerer's Stone. Ron and I questioningly looked at her.

"Oh, you two! The Sorcerer's Stone makes you immortal and gives you all the riches you want!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No wonder Snape wants it," Ron remarked.

"Well, Flamel is obviously giving it to Dumbledore to guard then!" I exclaimed.

"That's what Hagrid got out of the vault!" Ron said.

"And that's what that—that _dog_ is guarding!" Hermione finished.

We all proudly beamed at having figured this out.

The next day, I made my way down to the Quidditch field to the game. I was pretty nervous, but not as nervous as the first game. Hermione and Ron stationed themselves so they keep a close watch on Snape, but also cheer on Gryffindor.

In the locker rooms, everyone was looking at me expectantly. "Haile—" Wood finally took me aside. "We need an early capture of the Snitch this time, okay? Snape won't have enough time to take points off."

"I'm just a bit nervous with Snape refereeing," I admitted. Fred shook his head at me and pointed out the door.

"Dumbledore's out there," Fred said, shrugging.

George nodded. "Snape wouldn't be too unfair with Dumbledore watching."

"Snape sure looks angry though," Katie Bell observed.

Ten minutes later, the game had started. I circled the field, looking for the Snitch. Snape kept awarding the Hufflepuffs penalties for no reason at all, and sure enough, George smacked a Bludger and Snape called a penalty.

I furiously looked for the Snitch because we were down twenty points. _Come on, come on, come on… THERE!_

I couldn't believe it; the familiar shimmer of gold was unmistakably close to the ground directly below me. The other Seeker (who was the good-looking boy from the train, I noticed!) didn't seem to see it, so without anyone noticing, I silently dove down.

I caught it within seconds. The game ended utter confusion as I held the Snitch high. The team ran to give me hugs and the Gryffindors poured onto the fields. "Nice game," said the good-looking Seeker, Cedric, and I smiled at him.

Dumbledore put his hand on my shoulder and congratulated me. As I passed Snape exiting the field, he spat on the ground. "Not a sore sport, are we, Professor?" I asked, innocently.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Get. Out. Of. My. Sight."

"Bye, Professor," I said quickly, running to the castle.

Ron and Hermione were waiting in the entrance hall. He had a bloody nose. "Blimey, H!" Ron said. "Nice game!"

"Ron, what happened?"

Ron explained about Neville and him getting into a fight with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Wow!" I laughed. Then I remembered I had left my broom in the locker room! "Ugh, I'm so clueless, I left my broom in the locker room!"

"I'll come with you," Hermione said.

Hermione and I made our way back down to the field. "I feel so happy," I sighed to Hermione. Hermione smiled.

"Me too," Hermione said. "Gryffindor winning… I'm doing so well in classes… you're not doing too bad yourself! Also, us finding out about Flamel."

"But are we going to do about it?" I asked.

We entered the locker rooms. As I grabbed my broomstick, Hermione shook her head. "I don't know yet. I don't think it's wise to inform a teacher until it's get too serious yet."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Let's go up to dinner, I'm starved."

Hermione started to make our way back up to the castle, when a hooded figure that was obviously Snape walked swiftly to the Forbidden Forest. He had the same limp and we noticed black hair falling out of the hood. We hid ourselves behind a nearby tree and spied until he reached the forest.

Hermione and I exchanged suspicious glances. "We've got to find out," I hissed. Hermione shook her head fearfully.

I climbed on my broomstick and gave her a look as if to say, 'Well?'. She whimpered a little, but climbed on behind me. We took off and she stifled a scream. Silently, I flew over the forest. We finally found a dark spot where we could hear voices.

"W—why did you want t—to m—meet me here…"

"Oh, shut up," Snape snapped. "Don't want anyone to hear us talking about the Stone, of course. So, tell me, found out how to get past that three-headed beast?"

"I—I…no, Severus—"

Hermione slipped a bit, and I had to lean forward so she'd feel safer. I listened intently again, and Snape was finishing saying something.

"—your bit of hocus pocus. I want to know."

"Severus, I d—don't…"

"That's it, then. We'll talk soon. You need to think this over and see where your loyalties lie."

Snape left Quirrell then, and Quirrell looked extremely petrified.

Hermione and I hurried back to the castle soon after to inform Ron. Now we were positive Snape was after the Stone and that he needed Quirrell to help him.

"So, basically," Hermione said, as we sat around the fire in the common room, talking in low voices, "as long as Quirrell keeps quiet, the Stone is safe."

"Oh, brother," I said, slamming my head down on the table.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron said.


	8. Chapter 8: When I Left You

However, Quirrell seemed to be keeping his mouth shut because one) Snape was still in a bad mood, two) we still heard Fluffy growling, and three) Quirrell was shaky and pale, but didn't quite seem cracked yet.

On top of that, Hermione and the teachers started talking nonstop about the exams. It was very overwhelming. Basically, we spent most of our time in the library, trying desperately to figure out Snape's impossible notes and McGonagall's confusing directions.

One day, Ron spotted Hagrid in the library. "Hagrid! What brings you here?" Ron asked.

"Oh, jus' um, yeh know…the books."

We weren't suspicious until he said that. "Hagrid, what's that?" Hermione asked suspiciously. He dropped a book hurriedly in his pocket.

"Nothin'! An' what're you doin'? Still tryin' ter find Nicholas Flamel?" He laughed.

"We already know who he is," I told Hagrid, like it was most obvious thing. "Plus, we know about what… _Fluffy…_ is guarding, the stone—"

"Hey, hey!" Hagrid hissed. "If yeh want ter talk, come see me later. Don' go shoutin' it all over."

"We'll come by later," I promised.

Ron jumped up and hurried to section he saw him in. "Dragons!" Ron exclaimed. "But…that's against the laws. It's dangerous….you know, my brother works with them, Charlie. No easy business there!"

"He's always wanted one," I put in helpfully.

"Oh please!" Hermione laughed. "I know Hagrid's a bit…eccentric…but he'd never actually get a dragon!"

-A half hour later.-

"Hagrid!" Hermione shrieked. "THAT IS NOT A DRAGON EGG, CORRECT?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Not a big deal. Won it off some stranger in town last night. "

"I can't believe you! You'll be in so much trouble! How are you going…going to _raise it?_ " Hermione shot at him bewildered.

"I've been readin' up on it. I know what ter do. Mine's a Norwegian Ridgeback," Hagrid said proudly.

Hermione looked at Ron and I, and we both shrugged back at her. "Anyway," Hermione said breathlessly. "About the stone and Fluffy…"

"Can you at least tell us who's helped _guard_ it?" I asked hopefully.

Hagrid sighed and looked shiftily at Hermione's face. He must have thought Hermione would go tell a teacher or something because he hurriedly said, "All righ'. Me, o' course, Professor Sprout, Flitwick, Quirrell, Dumbledore, o' course, and Snape."

"Snape!?" Ron shouted.

"Come off it! Snape wouldn' try ter steal it, he helped guard it."

"Would you ever tell…let's say…another professor how to get past Fluffy?" Hermione asked.

"Only Dumbledore knows," Hagrid promised.

"Then I think we're safe for now," I told Ron and Hermione.

"Safe from wha'?" Hagrid asked. But we were already leaving.

"Careful with the egg!" Hermione told him, as we were walking out the door. "And you know I would never tell a soul a secret of yours, don't you, Hagrid?"

Hagrid beamed.

Ron, Hermione, and I worried about Hagrid and his egg all the time, in addition to all the extra work and studying we had to do. Finally, one day during breakfast, we got the letter. ' _It's hatching.'_

"We're skipping Herbology. A dragon hatching!" Ron cheered.

"No! Hagrid's going to be in trouble if we attract attention…" Hermione argued.

"Too late," I whispered. They looked up alarmed and saw Malfoy standing nearby, and his face was the epitome of pure evil.

We went to Herbology and after the class, we ran down to Hagrid's hut, making sure not to be seen. The eggs had several large cracks in it, and Hagrid couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"Oh, Merlin," Ron said, gulping.

In just a few minutes, the dragon popped its head out and let out a high-pitched shriek. I gasped. The remainder of its body poked out shortly. I wrinkled my nose. It was kind of ugly.

Hermione had the same look, but Ron was looking on dumbstruck. Hagrid wiped tears from his eyes. "He's so beautiful," Hagrid sobbed. "Norbert…Norbert's his name."

Then, Hagrid looked up and gasped. "Who…who was that?" Hagrid gasped again.

We all hurried to the window where Hagrid had looked, and saw a certain blonde boy running back up to the castle. I knew it. Malfoy had heard it and we were positive he had seen the dragon.

However, Malfoy didn't seem to want to tell anyone; I didn't know if that was good or bad—what was he going to do? A week past and nothing happened.

We tried to convince Hagrid to let him free, but he wouldn't oblige. Instead, Ron and I did the only thing that seemed to make sense—write to his brother, Charlie. Even Hermione agreed.

The next week seemed to take forever. Finally, Charlie's letter came. He explained in the letter that he could take Norbert, and the safest way to do that was to send Norbert with a couple of his friends on the top of the tallest tower, at midnight on Saturday.

It gave us some relief for a while, until Wednesday night.

Norbert had bitten Ron, and Hermione and I had no choice but to send him up to the hospital wing to Madam Pomfrey.

This had been the single most stressful week of my life. It doesn't stop there, either. Charlie's letter had been in a textbook and one day, while Malfoy had come up to laugh at Ron, he took the textbook, which contained the letter.

"Why did he take your textbook?" Hermione demanded.

"He told Madam Pomfrey he had come to borrow it!" Ron wailed. "I didn't know!"

Saturday night could not come fast enough.

Finally, Saturday night arrived like summertime. We hurried down to Hagrid's cabin and collected Norbert. We all hugged Hagrid—we still felt bad for him…but it was the right thing to do.

Hagrid said his good-bye, and Hermione and I trudged back up to the castle, heaving Norbert's heavy crate, hidden under my Invisibility Cloak. We started to climb the long journey of stairs to the highest tower. We didn't know exactly where it was; we just figured we'd climb all the stairs we could find.

After what seemed like an hour of climbing, we heard a very rewarding sound. "Malfoy, what are you doing out of bed? Twenty points from Slytherin!" McGonagall screeched.

"No, Professor, Haile Potter's out of bed and she has a dragon!" Malfoy protested.

"Nonsense! Back to bed—I'll escort you personally!" McGonagall scolded.

Hermione and I laughed quietly until we reached the tower. We burst out in hysterics, now that no one could hear us. "I feel so much better," I told her, smiling my first real smile all week.

Soon enough, Charlie's genial friends arrived. They greeted us cheerfully. Their eyes and smiles widened when they saw me. "Pleasure!" they all exclaimed. They took Norbert right away, and they were off. We waved good-bye.

Hermione and I happily set off back down the tower, feeling light and happy.

Unfortunately…our luck took a turn for the worse.

Filch stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms crossed, a weird, twisted smile on his face. "Well, well, well." His smile widened. "We _are_ in trouble."

McGonagall was _not_ happy with us. That's an understatement, actually. She was downright furious. She thought that we had fed Malfoy some nonsense story about a dragon—which worked in our case!—and apparently Neville had believe it also, and had set off to warn Hermione and I about Filch.

She took fifty points from Gryffindor away from us. She wanted to make it fifty points _each_ , but Hermione's and my almost tear-stricken face seemed to soften her heart.

"Fine," McGonagall said. "Fifty points from the three of you. Instead, you will all serve detentions with Malfoy—Snape refused to take points away, so instead he scheduled a detention."

We nodded, and on the way back to the Gryffindor tower, we tried to explain to Neville it wasn't just a story, without telling him we had a dragon. It was difficult, and Neville just went up to bed, depressed.

Hermione and I went up to bed, too, also depressed.

Things started to finally pick up until one week before exams were to come. Hermione, Ron, and I walked past Quirrell's classroom one day and we heard whimpering, which caught our attention.

"No, please—oh—oh, all right—all right," we heard. Quirrell exited his office, pale and shaking, looking on the verge of tears. We exchanged wild glances with each other as Quirrell walked right past us without noticing us.

We hurried up to the common room. "So that means it's over," Ron droned glumly. "I mean, for all we know, Snape just threatened him to the point of breaking down and he could already know about Fluffy."

"We need to go to Dumbledore," Hermione said firmly.

"No!" I exclaimed. Hermione and Ron glanced at me confused. "We can't just go around accusing teachers without proof!"

"We can at least tell him," Hermione argued.

"Hermione, it's not going to work. And how are we going to explain how we know all this?"

Hermione nodded, comprehending, but Ron looked unconvinced. "Haile—"

"Ron, it's not use. I don't know what to do at this point."

The next day we all received a letter from McGonagall that told us our detention time. We were to meet Filch in the entrance hall at 11 o'clock that very night.

Malfoy and Neville were already there when Hermione and I arrived that night. Filch laughed evilly as he led us outside, onto the grounds. "Hope you learn your lesson, you little nasties," Filch muttered.

Filch led us to Hagrid's hut. My heart leapt. Hagrid won't be so bad! Neville even looked slightly optimistic. Hagrid came out and smiled at Hermione and I. "We're goin' in the forest," Hagrid informed us. He glanced at Filch. "I'll take it from here."

Filch frowned deeply and limped away, still muttering to himself.

"The forest?" echoed Draco, a little bit panicked. "No way."

"Oh yeh," Hagrid argued. "We're lookin' for the almost-dead unicorn. Poor thing. If yeh see silvery stuff on the ground, it's unicorn blood. We'll split up. Draco an' Haile you go over there and I'll take Hermione an' Neville. Send up sparks if yeh find it."

I groaned and reluctantly led Draco into the forest. Fang followed us, since we weren't with Hagrid. Draco and I just walked for a while, nothing suspicious or scary happened.

"This is so annoying," Draco kept mumbling, while I ignored him.

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" I finally gasped, as I laid my eyes upon a beautiful, dead, white creature sprawled on the floor. It was definitely the unicorn. I took a step towards it while Draco stayed behind.

Suddenly, to my dread, a black, hooded figure emerged from the foliage around the clearing and began to drink the unicorn's blood. I stepped back, horrified and speechless, but Draco let out a yell and ran, taking Fang with him.

The hooded figure looked up. It advanced on me, and I was too transfixed to move. As it got closer, my body froze with fear and the worst pain I had ever experienced hit me like a wave upon sand. My scar, my forehead, my whole face appeared to be on fire.

Suddenly, a hoofed creature ( _a centaur?_ you thought wildly) charged at the figure and the figure retreated as quickly as it came. The centaur turned to you.

"Haile…Potter," the centaur said, slowly.

"Wow," I said, not knowing what else to say. I was too dumbstruck by what had just happened. "I mean, thank you. I've just never seen a centaur before."

"There are a fair few of us in the forest. We know much, us centaurs, but we rarely let on. You must go back to the castle—it is not safe in the forest. I'm Firenze," he added, as I clambered on his back.

It was exciting riding on the back of a half-man, half-horse. Before we got ten feet, two other centaurs cut Firenze off. I almost fell off.

"What do you think you're doing?" scolded one of them centaurs to Firenze. "A human on your back!"

"It is Haile Potter," Firenze explained calmly. "It is not safe for her to be here."

"You dare tell her of the dangers? Have you not read what the planet movements are telling us?" said the same centaur to Firenze.

I just sat there in puzzled silence.

"Do you not understand why the unicorn was killed? Perhaps it is _you_ who has not read the planet's movements!" Firenze fought back. He then whipped around and galloped off with me on his back.

We finally stopped riding in a thick patch of trees. "Haile Potter…do you know the purpose of unicorn blood?" he asked me.

"No…what?" I asked, curious.

"It is a terrible, desperate crime. It will keep you alive no matter how close to death you are, but you will live a cursed life after you drink it."

"I'd rather die!" I exclaimed. "Who would want to do that?"

"Yes…they would have to want stay alive very, very badly to obtain something better. And I assume you know what is hidden at Hogwarts at the present?"

"The Sorcerer's Stone!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Of course!"

"Think, Ms. Potter. Who has waited a very long time to return to power?"

My heart sank dreadfully. "Firenze…sir…are you telling me that hooded thing was Voldemort?"

Before Firenze could reply, Hagrid yelled for me across the distance, finally coming into view. "Haile! Oh, Firenze, yeh found her!" Hagrid exclaimed.

"I found the unicorn," I told Hagrid as I dismounted from Firenze's back. "It's dead."

Firenze whispered to me, "Be safe." And he was gone.

Hermione hugged me and we finally were allowed to return to our common rooms. Neville walked close to Hermione and I back up to the school, and as we reached the entrance hall, Draco stopped me. "Oh, by the way… **when I left you** back there…I…"

I shook my head. "Don't." And we both went back to our common rooms.

Ron was waiting for us when we returned. We told him everything, and Hermione was also eager to hear my tale. I was shaking from head to toe. "He's still there…he wants the stone…Snape is going to get it for him…" I kept muttering.

"Haile, please try to stay calm," Hermione said.

"I can't!" I exclaimed. "Hermione, when Voldemort gets the stone…I'm dead!"

"With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who doesn't have a chance!" Hermione exclaimed.

"But Voldemort—"

"Don't say his name!" Ron scolded.

"Let's all just go to bed," Hermione decided and we obliged. I'd deal with this tomorrow...


	9. Chapter 9: So Much More

The next week that followed gave me a bunch of bundled up nerves—concerning not only the exams, but now Voldemort as well. But Fluffy was still growling behind the door, so I just decided to wait.

The exams finally ended on that following Friday, to our happiness. Hermione was very pleased with her performance, but Ron and I were just glad that it was over. My scar had been hurting ever since the forest, and I kept worrying about it.

One night, I lay awake, wondering about Fluffy, Snape, and Voldemort. Why didn't Dumbledore see it? Snape was clearly aligned with Voldemort! I kicked my leg against the bed. I was so frustrated with everything!

Suddenly, something hit me and I jumped straight out of bed. I had to go talk to Hagrid. I had to go _now_. Hermione was asleep, and so were Ron and the rest of the castle. I got back into bed and stayed wide-awake until the early hours of morning.

When sunlight crept in our dormitory, I woke up Hermione right away. Hermione drowsily asked me what was going on and I told her my suspicions quietly before Lavender and Parvati woke up.

Hermione and I rushed to Ron's dormitory without embarrassment and even when the boys started waking up, Hermione stood our ground and dragged Ron out of bed.

"Lucky mate," Seamus muttered, waking up. "Getting greeted in the morning by two girls."

Dean laughed. Then they both yelled out, realizing we were there. "There's girls in here?!" joined in Neville.

"Shut up!" I yelled. "It's not a big deal!"

"Sorry!" Hermione exclaimed as she helped me drag a half-asleep Ron out of the room.

"Important business," I muttered before shutting the door.

Ron finally snapped to reality when I told him what I thought about last night. All three of us skipped breakfast and visited Hagrid instead.

Hagrid was surprised to see us. "How are yeh doin'?" he greeted, as we arrived at his door.

"Not so well," I admitted. "Hagrid—I have to ask you something."

"Yeh?" He looked slightly suspicious.

"That night you won the dragon egg. Do you remember what the guy you won it from looked like at all?" Hermione blurted out.

"He was wearing a hood," Hagrid recalled, thoughtfully. He thought some more. "Can't remember much…"

"Did you talk about Hogwarts?" I pressed.

"Well, yeh, a bit. I jus' told him 'bout the creatures I take care of. Said I always wanted a dragon…and told him I could handle it, because after Fluffy, a dragon would seem easy…."

"Did you tell him anything about Fluffy?" Ron demanded.

"Well…he was very interested. I told him Fluffy's not too hard if yeh jus' play him a bit o' music, 'cause he'll go straight ter sleep…" His head shot up as he noticed the surprised look on our faces. "Forget I said anythin'! Where yeh goin'? Haile!"

We said a hasty good-bye and ran back up to the castle. "He told Voldemort!" I exclaimed. "Or Snape!" I began to panic. "We've got to see Dumbledore! Now!"

"Calm down, Haile," Ron attempted, but I shook him off.

"Ron, we've got to see Dumbledore," I told him.

Hermione noticed Professor McGonagall passing by the entrance hall. "Professor!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What is it?" she asked, looking very tired.

"We need to see Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What ever for?" McGonagall demanded.

"Listen, it's really important," I said quietly. "Where can we find him?"

"Professor Dumbledore just left for London. A very urgent note arrived for him from the Ministry," McGonagall told us, a little puzzled at our ambition.

"Professor, you don't understand," Ron pressed.

"It's about the stone! The Sorcerer's Stone!" I blurted out.

Professor McGonagall's face turned white and she clutched her chest. "You—you know of it?" she stammered.

"Someone is going to steal it! I have simply got to talk to Professor Dumbledore!" I exclaimed.

"I will send an owl of this…knowledge you seem to possess, but I assure you the Stone is well protected."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Ron blurted out,

"Stop this nonsense," she said shortly. "Run along." She hurried away, still pale.

"That's it," I said when she was gone. "Snape'll do it tonight, then. Dumbledore's gone and he knows everything."

We returned to the common room. We sat in armchairs by the fire, thinking hard in silence. "I've got no other choice," I finally broke the silence.

"What?" Hermione and Ron asked together.

"I'm going to get the Stone first. I'm going through that trapdoor," I decided, bravely, but inside I felt sick and worried.

"You've gone mad," Ron said. "You'll be expelled, mate."

"I don't care!" I exclaimed fiercely. "Look—if Snape gets the Stone and gives it to Voldemort…I'm dead. The whole wizarding world will be destroyed! Don't you understand? It's the only way."

"We're going with you," Hermione said suddenly, standing up.

"The Invisibility Cloak should cover all three of us," Ron agreed.

"You two are so not coming!" I told them, fiercely, standing up also.

Ron was the last to stand up. He faced me bravely. "Yes, we are, Haile. We're not letting you go alone. We don't care if we get expelled or if we'll be in danger!"

"You might need us to help you," Hermione added thoughtfully. "I'm going to go read!"

That night, we waited in the common room until everyone left. All three of us were a bundle of nerves…we didn't want to this, but we didn't have a choice.

"Where are you three going?"

It was Neville. He stood in pajamas at the foot of the boys' dormitory. "You'll lose more points!"

"Neville, you don't understand. We have to!" Hermione exclaimed. "Please, go on up to bed…"

"No! I'll fight you!" Neville said, stepping closer.

"Do something!" Ron hissed at Hermione.

Hermione sighed and said to Neville, "I'm really sorry about this! _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Neville dropped to the floor, bound together with invisible ropes. We all apologized and left the room in a hurry, after pulling on the cloak.

Surprisingly, we only ran into Mrs. Norris a couple times, and she did nothing as we swiftly passed her. Filch was nowhere to be seen and even Peeves didn't come near us. We finally reached the third-floor corridor. The door was ajar.

"I knew it," I muttered. "You guys…you don't have to come any farther. This isn't your problem."

"You said so yourself—the wizarding world could be affected," Ron muttered back.

"We're coming!" Hermione hissed. And she led the way inside. The dog was awake again. My heart beat rapidly.

I pulled the flute Hagrid gave me for Christmas out of my pocket (good thing I remembered it!) and played it right away. I kept playing as we walked towards the trapdoor.

The dog was _so, so_ big. I was terrified, but Ron finally opened the trapdoor. I didn't care where it went, I just wanted to get away from the dog. I decided to go first.

"I'll go after you," Ron promised. He peered into the hole. "Looks like we have to jump."

I gulped and passed the flute to Hermione quickly. I jumped into the trapdoor, which only showed endless blackness. I fell and fell and fell until I landed on a soft, fluffy-like something. "Come on down, it's okay!" I yelled up to Hermione and Ron.

Ron came down a few moments later. "What is this?" Ron asked.

"I think it's a plant," I observed.

Hermione fell a few moments later. "Oh!" She freed herself from the plant and jumped to regular ground. "You idiots! Look at yourselves!" she cried, alerted.

Ron and I dreadfully looked our tangled and bound bodies. The plant had taken over us with its vines and creepers. "I know what this is!" Hermione exclaimed. "A Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "Haile—it's a Devil's Snare! That sure helps a lot in this particular situation, don't you say?"

"Professor Sprout told us about this one!" she thought out loud. "It likes the dark…fire! Fire! That's it! But…I need wood and—"

"BLOODY HELL, HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed. "YOUR WAND!"

The vines had begun to tighten and I felt my breathing get shorter and shorter. "Hurry!" I gasped.

"Oh!" Hermione shrieked and took out her wand, mumbled a spell, and set flames bursting out of the tip of it. The plant stopped attacking Ron and I. I hugged Hermione tightly and we continued down a stone passageway.

We didn't know what to expect; but we obviously thought we had gone through the worst. We finally approached a door, and heard some very strange clinking and rustling sounds behind it. "What do you reckon it is?" Ron asked.

"One way to find out," I told him. I opened the door. Small, bright keys that had wings were flying around room at top speed. "What on Earth?" Hermione cried.

There was a door at the end of the room. Ron ran across the room and tried the door. "It's locked! One of the keys must open the door!" Ron exclaimed.

"Look, there's a broomstick!" I exclaimed pointing to an old-looking broomstick in the corner of the room. I ran over and mounted it.

"Look for an big, old-fashioned one. Probably silver," Hermione called to me. "Hurry! We don't know how far Snape could be already!"

"I'm on it!" I exclaimed and flew into the air. It was very difficult. The keys never stayed in one place at once, and after many, many minutes of hopeless searching, I started grabbing random ones.

We tried a fair few of the keys I grabbed, until finally, I spotted the one I was positive was it. I chased it for thirty seconds before finally capturing it and sure enough, it unlocked the door.

I hesitated to open the next door. Hermione shook her head, pushing her long, frizzy locks behind her ears. "It's now or never, Haile," Hermione pressed.

I nodded and obliged, opening the door. The room was large, cold, and hollow. A huge, huge chessboard was the only thing that occupied it, along with a door of the far end of the room. We didn't even have to try it to know it was locked.

"Looks like we're going to have to play some wizard chess!" Ron exclaimed, and his face lit up. This was Ron's area of expertise; I was happy I brought them along after all!

Ron turned to Hermione and I. "Haile…take the place of that bishop—right there. Good, and er, Hermione, stand next to her instead of the castle. Right, good. And me…I'll be that knight."

The bishop, knight, and castle all left the board right after Ron finished speaking, and we occupied the spaces. "White goes first," Ron noted, and sure enough, a white pawn had moved forward.

Ron shouted directions at Hermione and I, and we were doing quite well until our knight was taken—luckily, not Ron's. The queen smashed it to the floor and dragged it off the board. We all looked at each other, sickened.

After about ten, maybe twenty minutes, both the black and white side had many taken pieces of each side. Ron gulped and Hermione and I turned to him eagerly, awaiting his instructions.

"Hermione, Haile…I've got to be taken. It leaves Haile to checkmate the king."

"No!" we both cried out.

"That's chess!" Ron snapped back. He stepped forward and the white queen smashed him to the floor, before Hermione or I could object. Hermione and I both screamed, but we remained on our squares.

As quickly as I could, I checkmated the king. The king removed his crown and chucked it. The path to the doorway was left clear. Hermione ran to Ron's side, but I shook my head. "He'll be alright in here now, we've got to go!" I said frantically. "We'll come back for him later."

Hermione nodded and ran after me through the next door. Another large room was next. There was a dead troll in the corner of the room. "Oh, thank Goodness," Hermione breathed.

"There's potions," I pointed out once we advanced into the next room. They were very strong smelling and Hermione and I tried not to breathe in the fumes too much.

Hermione picked up a roll of parchment lying on the same table and read it quickly. "This will be simple! It's pure logic! Leave this to me, Haile," she said, her cheeks flushing excitedly.

She didn't take very long. She pointed to the smallest bottle. "That will get you through the black fire towards the Stone," Hermione exclaimed.

"Positive?" I asked nervously.

"Yes. And this one will get us back through the purple fire. There's not enough in each bottle, though…."

"Hermione, get Ron and go straight to the Owlery and send a note to Dumbledore."

"Haile…you can't possibly go alone…" Hermione whimpered.

"I'll be okay. I have no idea what I'm going to do, but I'll find a way," I told her confidently, but inside I wanted to die.

She hugged me tightly. "You're such a great person, Haile. You're **so much more** than just the Girl Who Lived. Please be careful!" she told me, wiping tears from her eyes.

I grabbed the potion at once and drank it. It was extremely cold, but it was fine. "Good luck!" we both said simultaneously. I stepped through the black fire. It felt like nothing at all.

On the other side, a light chamber was in plain view. And standing there was absolutely not Snape.

It was Professor Quirrell.


	10. Chapter 10: Good Does Not Defeat Evil

"Professor!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" I felt relieved; perhaps Quirrell had already dealt with Snape!

"Oh, so you made it," Quirrell smiled at me. "I thought you might."

"So, is Snape here?" I blurted out.

Quirrell laughed a low, sharp laugh. His voice was no longer nervous and his face was confident and cold. "Oh, Merlin, no. Don't you understand, Potter?" he snapped.

My blood turned cold and my face felt hot. I was getting a bad feeling about this. "Understand…what?" I mumbled, shakily.

"Snape didn't try to kill you at the Quidditch match: I did, you stupid girl. That bushy-haired girl messed my eye contact up when she set Snape's robes on fire. Yes, yes, Severus suspected me all along. Offered to referee the Quidditch match to keep an eye on me! Made himself quite unpopular…what a waste."

I felt dizzy. "Snape isn't in on this at all? _You've_ been with Voldemort? I can't believe it! I stood up for you! I—"

Suddenly, ropes came out of nowhere and bound me tightly. "You almost ruined my plans. After I let the troll in on Halloween, I knew you were on to something. Now hold your tongue, girl—I need to examine this mirror."

My attention jerked to the Mirror of Erised that stood in the center of the room. I gasped. I need to distract Quirrell! This was bad, very, very bad. I could die tonight—not if I could help it!

"But…Snape always seemed to be threatening you," I said, hurriedly.

"Yes, he had his suspicions," Quirrell said coldly. "Quite a nuisance."

"But…he always seemed to hate me," I pressed.

"Yes, that is also true," Quirrell said airily. "Your father and him were worst enemies at school back then."

" _That's_ why he hates me?" I asked hollowly. _My father?_

"I'd say."

"I heard you sobbing a few days ago. What was that about?" I asked.

"My master…is most frightening at times. He is always with me…ever since I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts."

"You!" I exclaimed. I groaned. _How could I have been so off?_

Quirrell started to mumble frantically at the mirror, trying to figure out how it works. _Maybe if_ _ **I**_ _look into the mirror, I'll see the Stone so Quirrell can't get it._ It was impossible, though, because I couldn't move.

"Master, help me!" Quirrell finally cried out.

"Use the girl…use the girl…" came a hoarse, low voice. I looked around frantically, and I knew whose voice it belonged to. My heart sank with dread.

"Oh, Merlin," I whispered, shutting my eyes tight.

"Potter, come here!"

I got to my feet as the ropes fell away. I was shaking.

"Look into the mirror and tell me what you see."

 _I'm going to lie,_ I thought as I walked towards him with legs like jelly. I faced the mirror. It was my reflection at first. My scared face turned into a grin, and my hand reached into my pocket and took out a blood-red stone. I winked at my real self, and put the Stone into my pocket again. I felt something heavy drop into my real pocket. _I can't believe this! The stone!_

"What is it?" Quirrell asked.

I took a deep breath. "I'm not much help," I said, my voice not wavering. "I've just won the house cup for Gryffindor by catching the Snitch."

"She lies!" came the hoarse whisper again. My heart dropped once again.

I felt slightly less scared now that I had Stone, but what should I do now? Run for it? Curse Quirrell? Wait for Dumbledore?

"Let me speak to her…face-to-face."

"No!" Quirrell exclaimed. "You are not strong enough yet!"

"Obey me, you filth."

Quirrell whimpered, reached up to his head, and began to unravel his turban, nervously. Puzzled, I watched as he removed it. He was bald on top and his head looked almost small. I giggled a bit.

"You dare laugh?" Quirrell boomed. He whipped around, so his back faced me.

I screamed. I shrieked. I didn't move. I couldn't move. I could only scream until my voice was hoarse. My scar hurt worse than it did in the forest. The white face with glaring little, bright, red demonic eyes and slits for nostrils and a tiny, deformed mouth waited until I was done screaming to speak.

"Haile Potter…I'd know you anywhere. Look at what you have made of me….Only to share another's body, to drink unicorn blood—you saw me, in the forest…." He spoke as if it hurt him to so, and his voice was very raspy and weak.

He continued, "Once I have the Stone, I will be able to rise to power once again….Give it to me—I know you have it in your pocket….Save your own life and join me. You should learn from your parent's mistake—they died begging for mercy…."

"YOU LIE!" I screamed, finding my voice once more. "DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME OF MY PARENTS!" Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who destroyed my parents' lives, was right here in front of me. I had to do something! But I couldn't…I could not move.

"Oh, yes, bravery," his voice spoke again. "You're the same as your parents. I killed your father first; he tried to protect your mother and yourself…and your mother, she died trying to protect you as well. Now girl, young stupid girl, give me the Stone."

"I would never help— _you_ —return to power, you evil demon!" I screamed. I finally found feeling in my legs. I leapt for the door, before Quirrell's hand closed on my arm. A hot, sharp pang shot across my scar again. At once, his hand released, though.

I turned around in surprise. Quirrell was screaming in horror. His hands were blistering before his eyes. I gasped at the horrible sight. "SEIZE HER!" Voldemort kept shrieking. Quirrell grabbed my small frame and pushed me to the ground.

I hit the ground hard. My head was spinning. His hands enclosed my neck, but almost at once, his hands retreated again.

"I cannot hold her, master! My hands!" Quirrell yelled out, agonized.

"Kill her! KILL HER, FOOL!" Voldemort shrieked.

Quirrell whipped out his wand, but I was too quick. I grappled for his face and found it immediately, through my blurred vision. My hands burned his face. I held on for as long as I could. I could feel his flesh boiling and simmering under my grip, but I shut my eyes tight and didn't let go.

I was no longer in tact with the spinning world around me. All I could make out were the shrieks of agony from Quirrell, the yells of "KILL HER!" from Voldemort, and other voices were now in it, too. I tried to figure out what was going on, but I was too tired.

Finally, my hands let go out his face and I fell into blackness, unaware.

When I regained consciousness, I was comfortable and I felt as a huge weight had been lifted. I opened my eyes, smiling.

Albus Dumbledore's face loomed above me. "Good afternoon," he said, pleasantly.

I screamed again. He just smiled and patted my hair.

"Now, now. Everything is okay now."

"The Stone!" I frantically blurted out. "Quirrell must have it! Sir, please—"

"You've been asleep in here three days," Dumbledore told me.

"It's too late! Voldemort, sir, Lord Voldemort is back!"

"Haile, let me talk for a while." I obediently held my tongue while Dumbledore spoke. "The whole school knows what happened a few nights ago, naturally. Just letting you know if you are swarmed when you are released tonight, it is because of that." He winked. "Also, since you are so keen to know about the Stone, I arrived in time so that Quirrell did not take the Stone from you. It has been destroyed."

"But—Flamel, your friend, Nicholas Flamel!" I exclaimed, disobeying his wish for my silence. I shut my mouth immediately.

"Oh, you know?" he said, sounding pleased. "We had a little chat and agreed it's for the best. He and his wife lived a long, good life. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." I pondered this for a minute before speaking.

"Sir, what about Vold—I mean, You-Know-Who?" I asked, nervously.

"Haile, please call him Voldemort. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself," Dumbledore said casually.

"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort is back, then?" I inquired again.

"He's out there somewhere. He left Quirrell to die; as you can see, he has no mercy for his followers. Anyhow, only time will tell about his future intentions."

"Sir, I have a few questions," I admitted. "A few _more_ questions, actually."

"You may proceed, although I beg you to forgive me if I am unable to not answer. I will not lie, however."

"Thank you, sir. Well, firstly…Voldemort said he killed my mom because—because she was trying to protect me. Why did he want to kill me?" I asked.

"This I cannot tell you, Haile. One day when you are old enough, you may know. You are not ready, I'm afraid. Please trust me."

I did trust him. "Then, sir, why couldn't Quirrell touch me?" I asked, softly.

"Your mother died to save you out of love. **Good does not defeat evil,** nor does light defeat dark. However, love defeats both. You are marked with love, Haile, and that is why he could not touch you."

Dumbledore looked away to examine the large abundance of flowers and candy sitting on the bedside table, while I wiped my eyes on the sheets. His words were so simple, yet so meaningful, that I wanted to hang on to every word forever.

"Sir, I'm sure you know about the Invisibility Cloak by now. Do you know who sent it to me?" I asked.

"Oh, well, of course, that was me," Dumbledore said, his baby blue eyes twinkling. "Your father made good use of it at his time at Hogwarts."

I smiled widely at him. "And another thing. Quirrell said Professor Snape hates me because he hated my father. That's not fair! Why?"

"They did detest each other. You and Mr. Malfoy are quite similar. Snape can never forgive your father for saving his life, I believe."

"What?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes…Snape worked very hard this year to keep you safe to pay back the debt to your father."

"Wow…oh, and sir, just one more thing."

"Just one?" He smiled.

"How did I get the Stone from the mirror?" I asked.

"Yes, see only the one who wanted to find the stone, not use it, could obtain it through the mirror. One of my more brilliant ideas, I should say. Now, if that ends your interrogating, why don't we try some your sweets? Ah, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! As a youth, I came across a vomit-flavored one, and I have therefore disliked them."

I laughed and handed him a golden-brown one. "This one looks like honey," I offered helpfully.

"I have nothing to lose," Dumbledore said, eating the bean. "Except my appetite," he added choking. "Ear wax!"

My laugh echoed throughout the Hospital Wing.

A while later, after Dumbledore had left, I was bored of being all alone. "Madam Pomfrey, I'm fine. Can I please go to the feast?"

"Absolutely not."

"PLEASE!?"

"Oh, all right."

I left immediately and ran into Hermione and Ron right away. We ran up to the common room before the feast, and I told them everything. They did the same once I was done. We all hugged and laughed, and soon enough, went downstairs to the feast.

I felt a lot better. I had the most wonderful feeling. People came up to me, patting my back and hugging me, and congratulating me.

Finally, Hagrid got a hold of me. "HAILE! IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Hagrid bellowed, sobbing. He picked me up and wouldn't let go.

"Hagrid, it's not your fault! Just calm down, it's okay now!" I screamed.

He set me on the ground, wiping his tears. "I got yeh a present," Hagrid sniffled.

"Really?" I vivified my face with my wide smile.

He handed me a leather-covered photo album. I opened it eagerly and stared at all the wizard photographs. My mother and father were on every page, along with my other relatives and friends. I didn't dare speak; I felt a though I might cry.

I looked up at Hagrid with sparkling eyes, and I knew he understood.

Dumbledore stood up before the feast. He looked around the Great Hall that was adorned with green and silver, for Slytherin had won the house cup in addition to the Quidditch cup.

"Another year!" Dumbledore said when it got quiet. "I hope everyone enjoys their summer. Now, the house cup needs awarding! Gryffindor in fourth place will three hundred and twelve points; Hufflepuff in third, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw in second with four hundred and twenty-six, and finally, Slytherin in first with four hundred and seventy-two."

The Slytherin table erupted into loud cheers and yells. Draco had stood up with the rest of the boys, yelling and pounding at their chests. I banged my head on the table.

"Yes, well done, Slytherin. However, some recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last minute points to award. First—Mr. Ronald Weasley."

Everyone to turned to Ron, who was sitting next to me. He went red to the tip of his ears.

"For the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in years, I award Gryffindor fifty points."

Everyone cheered at the table and patted Ron on the back. Ron beamed. "Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty points."

Hermione burst into happy tears. Everyone cheered again, even louder this time. A hundred points up! "Third—to Miss Haile Lily Potter." Everyone grew completely silent. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor sixty points."

The cheers from Gryffindor were deafening. The ceiling could have collapsed! Gryffindor was now tied with Slytherin! "And lastly, there are many kinds of courage. It takes a lot of courage to stand up to our enemies—but it takes even more courage to stand up to our friends. For that, I award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

If I thought it had been loud before, it was louder now. We could have knocked the whole castle down with our yells and cheers. The Slytherins pouted, but I had the best feeling in the world in my heart.

I looked towards the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall and I knew my parents were proud.

Exam results were out the next day, as it was the last week of school. Ron and I both surprisingly passed with good marks, and Hermione was the best in our year. She had a perfect score. Ron and I couldn't be jealous though—why waste our good spirits?

The day before the train ride home I went down to the library to return a book. Exiting the library, I ran into no other than Professor Snape. I didn't know to say to him—I almost wanted to apologize for suspecting, I wanted to hug him for trying to save my life, and I wanted to ask him about my father.

He eyed me with the same cold glare. "I see you're up and about," he muttered to me. "As if you need any more fame."

"Professor…" I started, but didn't know quite how to finish it.

"What?" he snapped.

As much as I loathed Snape, I gave him a wide smile. "Thanks for everything this year, Professor!"

"Potions class is enjoyable to you now?" he muttered, carefully not looking at me.

"Oh, not at all!" I said, laughing.

"You know, Haile," Snape said, his hard face softening for just a moment. "You really do look like your mother." I could have sworn his voice cracked on the last word, and without another word, he swept past me.

Even though I knew his look would turn cold and hollow next school year, I smiled to myself.

The train ride home came too fast for my liking. I didn't want to go home to the Dursleys. It was just too soon. Ron, Hermione, and I talked and laughed the whole ride back, and I dug the photo album Hagrid gave me out of my bag and we looked through it together.

This was the best year of my whole entire life.

When the train arrived at King's Cross, we exited the barrier once again, and we looked around for our parents. I saw the Dursleys right away. "That's them," I muttered to Ron and Hermione.

Ron burst into laughter at the sight of Dudley and Hermione said, "That's…your aunt and uncle? And cousin? He's a bit porky."

"A bit?!" Ron and I laughed together.

Mrs. Weasley came over with Ginny right away. "Oh, Haile, dear, how are you?" She gave me a big hug.

"Thank you for the fudge and the sweater," I said graciously.

"Oh, your welcome."

Fred and George gave me big hugs. We had bonded a lot over this year because of Quidditch and Ron. "Bye!" we all said together.

Dean and Seamus passed by me, and gave me hugs as well. Then Lavender and Parvati stopped to give Hermione and I hugs.

Mr. Dursley came storming over. "Let's go, girl."

"You must be Haile's family!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking at my aunt, uncle, and cousin.

"Er, yes," Mr. Dursley said with a pained smile. "Come on, Haile."

"I'll write to you!" Ron called, as Mr. Dursley pulled me away. "You'll come stay over the summer!"

"Yay!" I called back happily.

 _I'll need something to look forward to,_ I thought, eyeing the Dursleys unpleasant faces.

"Bye!"

THE END.

Please see Haile Potter (The Girl Who Lived) and the Chamber of Secrets for the next adventure in this saga. :D


End file.
